


Starsong

by MeBeThem4815



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Age Difference Between Adults, Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Drinking & Talking, Fake Dating, M/M, Masturbation, Molly In Lingerie, Mutual Pining, PTSD, Sex Tape, Slow Burn, Vomiting, bi-polar mollymauk, leaked sex tapes, mentions of drug use, past mollymauk/vax'ildan, remote control butt plugs, rock star molly, songwriter caleb, therapy cat frumpkin, they're adults folks and they're consenting, whoo boy caleb needs a lot of therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 23:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeBeThem4815/pseuds/MeBeThem4815
Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf has had a rough year. He's trying to start over, to turn over a new leaf, and he needs a hit record for that. Caleb Widgast is a failing songwriter on his last legs.AKA: The fake dating, singer/songwriter au that nobody asked for.





	1. Chapter One

It was quiet in Bryce's office. Caleb always liked that best about Bryce. Their office was in a corner building, right in the heart of Burbank; from the chair he had taken he could see the Disney studios and Warner Brothers and Paramount records not far away. Bryce also had lots of soft noises and lush plants in their office, making a calming place where Caleb felt safe and he was thankful for that. He was also thankful that Bryce hadn’t dropped him from the record yet, despite being unable to write. 

Bryce was good people, Caleb had come to know. 

They had been sitting in comfortable silence for about ten minutes, Caleb absorbed in his book as Bryce did something with paperwork with then door burst in, giving Caleb a shock. The smell of vanilla and nag champa and tea and patchouli and weed filled his nose as the person he was meant to be meeting flounced in. 

“Darling, sorry about being late. Traffic was hellish. They’re never going to finish the 405.” Molly sighed, tossing his purse and coat on the couch and kissing Bryce on the cheek. Caleb found himself curling into a ball as the former singer shoot him a look. 

Molly was beautiful and bright, dressed in leather leggings with embroidered peacock feathers on it, a silk shirt that gaped open enough at the top to expose his sternum, boots about a foot high, with bright purple hair and enough metal in his face to make him blink and sparkle in the Los Angeles sun like some kind of human discoball, with large reflective sunglasses on his face. 

“I’m sorry darling, I must have misunderstood.” Molly waved his hand (with purple and blue sparkling acrylic nails that were wickedly sharp) “I agreed to meet with the songwriter, not his rep.” Molly sashayed over to the cold bar and grabbed something in a can that cracked with a hiss when opened. 

“Molly.” The big woman in a suit behind him warned. She was taller than Molly and three times as broad with biceps the size of Caleb’s head. But there was also something calming about her; maybe it was the soft floral fabric of her tie and how it matched with cufflinks. Either way, there was something calming about the big woman, and Caleb could tell he liked her right away. 

“I mean, if this is what gets me to that songwriter you were praising I’ll jump through his hoops but if he’s really been out of work for as long as you say I’d thought he’d be here himself.” Molly threw himself onto the couch and his boots (foot high platforms) went onto the coffee table. 

“Boots off the table Molly, you know better.” Bryce chided without looking up. “Mollymauk, meet Caleb Widogast. Caleb, meet Mollymauk Tealeaf.” Caleb looked at the man from behind his book as Molly locked eyes with him and he got a good look at the man who had dominated the headlines for the past half a year. 

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me.” Molly said gently, making Bryce look up in shock and Yasha smile gently. He took off his sunglasses and faced Caleb, shooting him a winning smile. “I’m Mollymauk Tealeaf.” He said, holding out his hand. 

His cheekbones were high and elegant, his skin Irish-pale, with a dusting of freckles across his cheekbones. His lips were full and the ring at the left-hand corner of Molly’s bottom lip kept catching Caleb’s eye. There were peacock feathers inked along his cheek and down his neck and Caleb could see them curling over his skin under his shirt and he could see the head of a snake peeking out from his shirtsleeve. He was wearing makeup; there was some kind of gray powder along his lashes and there was something along his lips that made them soft and lightly pink, but his eyes were what caught Caleb the most. They were a rich gray, framed with thick black lashes, and there was something in them that reminded Caleb of a thundercloud. There were small scars that crossed over Molly’s skin and Caleb knew those had come from his arrest, but not the details of how they happened. 

“Ah. Hallo.” Caleb muttered, breaking the gaze. He slowly reached out and shook Molly’s hand. “It is good to meet you. I am Caleb Widogast.” He muttered, pulling his hand back quickly to his chest.

Oh he was handsome. This terribly shy man with the red hair and the frightened body language and with eyes as bright as the Los Angeles sky. He made Molly’s heart leap into his throat and he wanted to stare at Caleb for forever. His soft voice and deep German accent only made Molly want to try to take him apart and see how he sounded like in bed. 

“So, lets cut to the chase. Yes, TMZ was right. I’m in twice weekly therapy and I left rehab four months ago.” Molly said. He dug into his pocket and held up a bright shiny coin. “I got my six month chip last night.” He said with pride. The woman behind Molly beamed softly and Caleb caught how Bryce’s eyes seemed to soften with joy. 

“All the mud that my name’s been dragged through was the truth. I’m trying to get better and back on my feet, and that means working. So, I need a song but none of my old song writers are willing to write for me. I’m a…bit of a pariah.” He settled on, waving a hand before tucking his chip back into his pocket. “So I understand if you won’t write for me.” He said gently. 

Caleb took his time fitting his bookmark in place before turning to face Molly. 

“I…have issues myself.” He settled on, glancing to Bryce. 

“Caleb’s last few songs haven’t been hits.” Bryce explained. 

“What was wrong with them?” Molly asked. 

“Nothing. I stuck with the formula and the songs are alright, but they are not hits.” Caleb said gently. 

“Well there’s your problem.” Molly laughed. “Formulas. Who cares about formulas when you’re making art.” 

“Music isn’t an art. Music is science.” Caleb said. “Chords make emotions which tie into the lyrics. You have to have everything right to make a song.” 

“Oh, details.” Molly sighed with the wave of his hand. “You can’t rely on facts and science when making music. You need to draw on your heart, on your emotions.” 

“And look where drawing on your emotions got you.” Caleb quipped without thinking. He did not like this man. Molly was beautiful but he was also conceited and arrogant. Also, he found that every time he looked at Molly his heart started to race and he didn’t like that at all. Not one bit. The corner of Molly’s smile turned sour like milk for half a moment. 

“You’re right. I was out of control.” Molly said, unable to forget the start of his downward spiral. He knew he had been out of control for a while, but getting arrested in public and thrown into the back of a cop car while the whole of Los Angeles watched and photographed him, really, really let him know he had hit rock bottom. The stint in jail and then rehab and confirmed that. “That’s why I need a hit.” 

“And why should I write for you?” Caleb said. “You were late, you were rude, and you were dismissive of me. Why should I write for you?” He asked. 

“Because nobody else will sing your songs.” Molly said. He leaned on his elbows and Caleb got a good look at Molly; he saw the five o’clock shadow and the bags under his eyes and the layer of concealer over them and how Molly’s black roots were growing out and he saw that the collar of his shirt was fraying and he could see that Molly was desperate. The Mollymauk he had seen in the papers and on the news was a man who paid attention to every aspect of his appearance; for Molly to have visible flaws showed that he was nearing the end of his rope. 

“Am I right?” Molly asked. Caleb clenched his jaw and glanced away from Molly. “Nobody wants to sing something without a heart, Caleb. You need meaning and emotion behind a song to make it good. Yes, the clubs like songs that fit a formula, but…you need heart to make a song good. You need soul to make it click.” 

“And what do you suggest?” Caleb asked. “To make a song with soul?” 

Molly smiled at Caleb and something in Caleb’s chest caught. 

“Something sweet. Something that’s deceptively simple.” Molly said. “Something universal.” 

“A love song?” Caleb asked. 

“Yes. How familiar are you with Elton?” Molly asked. 

“I am familiar with Elton.” Caleb said, turning his body to face Molly. Molly smiled. 

“Good, you should know this.” Molly cleared his throat, pulled his shoulders back and started to sing. Caleb knew the song, of course he did. How could a person not know Your Song? He sat as Molly sang, his voice different that Caleb was used too. 

He was used to Molly singing trashy pop hits, heavily edited, with lots of base and meant to dance too. This was different. His voice, unedited and untouched, was sweet and clear and strong, with a bit of his natural Irish accent seeping through. It tickled the back of Caleb’s brain and he covered his mouth with his hand to keep Molly from seeing his smile. He had always liked Elton John. 

“You understand?” Molly asked. His accent fluttered in and out depending on if he was paying attention to keeping it out. 

“Ja, I do.” He said. “Something sweet. Simple. A love song.” 

“Perfect.” Molly beamed. “Just think of your wife and I’m sure the words will come.” He relaxed back in his chair with a wave of his hand. 

“Ah, I am unmarried.” Caleb said. 

“Girlfriend, then?” 

“Ah, no.” 

“...boyfriend?” 

“No. I am single.” Caleb said. 

“Now see, that’s what’s unnatural to me.” Molly sighed. “How can people be alright with be alone?” 

“I find it is better to be alone than to be someone and be lonely.” Caleb explained. Molly made a noise and glanced over Caleb’s shoulder out the window. 

“I suppose you do have a point there.” Molly muttered, nails clicking on the leather of his pants. 

“We also need a song for Christmas.” Bryce said. Caleb sighed. 

“You need to get someone else to write that. I do not do Christmas.” Caleb explained. 

“Just a cover.” Bryce said. 

“Santa Baby. Only I’m not changing the pronouns because I am not a coward.” Molly laughed. 

“That’s going to piss a lot of people off.” Bryce said. “You know how the flyover states-” 

“I don’t give a shit.” Molly turned to Bryce. “Those people are never going to love me. To them, I’m nothing but a disgusting fag who needs to have some manhood beaten into him. I’m not singing for them. I’m singing for people who are like me.” He explained. 

“We will loose sales.” Bryce said. 

“Will we?” Molly asked. “The only thing the public likes more than a star falling to Earth is when the star gets put back in the sky.” Molly explained. 

Caleb found himself watching Molly out of the corner of his eye as the singer debated with his manager. There was something about Molly that tugged him in and he found his fingers playing along the cover of his book like it was his old piano back in his apartment. He quickly reached for his backpack and started scribbling some notes, humming to himself as he did so. 

It was a simple melody, starting in e-flat. It was another four chord song, but he only needed four chords to write a pop hit. He wasn’t making Bohemian Rhapsody and he doubted that he would ever write something that iconic. He quickly wrote down the melody so he wouldn’t forget it. 

“Do you have something already?” Molly asked, turning to him. The smile that was playing on his face was soft and gentle, as if they were alone together. Something about it made Caleb’s spine squirm with unease. 

“Ah, just a chord progression.” He explained. “Something simple and sweet. I need to keep working on it.” 

“That’s fine darling.” Molly said. “So I record a few new songs and release them, we drop Santa Baby and then the love song?” He suggested. 

“For the record, yes.” Bryce said. 

“Ah, record?” Caleb asked. 

“Yes. I am looking for a comeback. To make a comeback, I need a record.” Molly said.

“I was hoping you two could work together to make your comebacks.” Bryce said. They steepled their hands on their desk and looked at the two of them. “I was this record ready to drop by Christmas. And, if all goes well, I’ll get you on ABC for the New Year’s Eve show.” Bryce said. 

“Are you sure they’ll let me back on?” Molly asked. Caleb raised an eyebrow at Molly. 

“I may have gotten a bit drunk and vomited on Kelly Rippa last year.” Molly said. “Maybe.” Caleb blinked in surprise. “Okay yes I don’t remember it but I’m thankful it was backstage, not on stage.” 

“Small blessings.” Bryce nodded. “If your songs are big enough, I’ll try to get you on.” 

“You are a delight.” Molly rose and pranced over to Bryce, kissing their cheek. 

“No promises.” Bryce said with a tiny smile. 

“Of course not. But the whisper of a chance is enough.” Molly turned to Caleb and shot him a tiny, genuine smile. “Well, Caleb?” He asked. 

“I…ah…” Caleb fiddled with his book, looking to Bryce. 

“We can discuss the details later. Tracks, possible tour, maybe even a vinyl.” Molly said. “I do love vinyls.” 

“So do I.” Caleb said. There was something visceral and grounding about vinyl records that made Caleb think of his happier childhood. 

“Do we have an agreement?” Molly asked, eager. 

“.…ja.” Caleb said. “We have a deal.” 

Molly beamed with joy and something in Caleb’s chest gave a funny spasm. He found himself rubbing at his chest, wondering if he was alright as Molly blabbered on about inviting Caleb to his house for a song writing session and how much Caleb would love his piano and that he’ll make the plans through Bryce. Caleb was barely paying attention; he found his chest was tight and he found it hard to breathe but it wasn’t like a panic attack; he knew panic attacks well. 

This was different. This felt…kinda nice. 

“Ah, ja that sounds good.” Caleb said, not really knowing what he was agreeing too but knowing Bryce would do right by him. 

“Delightful. I’m off then, darlings. Lunch dates awaits.” Molly kissed Bryce’s cheek and then bent over and kissed Caleb’s forehead. He felt Molly’s lips brush his skin and he inhaled sharply, pulling away. He tucked himself into a little ball and Molly pulled back, concerned. 

“I’ll see you Monday.” He said, linking arms with Yasha and leaving the office. 

“Are you alright?” Bryce asked. 

“I….do not like being touched.” Caleb explained. 

“Ah, noted. I’ll tell him for Monday.” Bryce said. “You are alright with this?” 

“I do not have a choice, Bryce.” Caleb said gently. “I have to write a hit or I will be destitute.” 

“You have a place to stay?” Bryce asked. “My couch is always open.” 

“Frumpkin and I are staying with a good friend. She is a sister to me.” Caleb explained. 

“That’s good. What does she do exactly?” Bryce asked. Caleb opened his mouth and then frowned. 

“I do not know.” He admitted. “I do think she knows what she does.” 

Bryce smiled at Caleb, laughing a bit. “That’s fair. Go on home Caleb. I’m proud of you for getting out of the house for this.” They said. 

“You and my therapist, both.” Caleb said with a wry smile. 

“She’s a very smart woman your therapist.” Bryce said. “Go home Caleb. Start working.” 

“Of course.” Caleb nodded to Bryce before slowly slinking out of the building and going home. 

Molly closed his bedroom door and sighed softly. He was growing more and more tired of this by the day. He knew he had a persona to maintain, but his life wasn’t the same anymore. He padded over to his bed and threw himself down on it. He had gotten it at the peak of his wild days, before he had crashed and burned. He stretched out, knowing that he could have eight people in this bed and there would be plenty of room. He sat up and undid his shoes as Yasha padded in. 

“So, honest truth Yasha, what do you think of Caleb?” He asked. Yasha pulled off her tie and shed out of her suit, dropping the guise of his bodyguard and becoming his best friend. 

“He’s quiet.” She said. 

“So are you. You two are the same kind of quiet.” 

“The watching kind.” 

His boots fell to the floor with a thunk and Molly sighed. He was smaller than most people expected, so he felt the need to live up to their larger-than-life expectations via platform boots. 

“Aye, I can see tha’.” His Irish was coming out and Yasha pushed a box of makeup wipes at him. 

“This means a whole new wave of publicity.” Yasha spoke in her soft way. He wiped his face clean of lipgloss and mascara and foundation, the layers of paint coming off to reveal a very tired, very haggard man, with deep plum bags under his eyes and worry lines at the corner of his mouth. 

“I can handle it.” Molly said gently. 

“I know you can. I’m worried about Caleb.” Yasha pulled off her shoes and wriggled out of her bra before crawling into bed. 

Molly wrapped himself around her and tucked his head on her shoulder. He adored Yasha not just because she’s one of a handful of people who still spoke to him, but because she never judged him. Even when he had been crying and curled up in his bathroom after the very nasty, very public breakup he had which had led to his downward spiral. 

“He does seem the fragile sort.” Molly agreed. She wrapped her arms around him and he snuggled closer. 

“Do you think he can help?” Yasha ashed. She reached up and played with his hair and Molly melted against her. She had tried to do her best for him, and she knew that he was much better than he had been. He wasn’t alright, and she doubted that he would end up the same Molly that she loved like a brother, but she knew that he would end up as someone great. 

“I think so.” Molly said gently. “Bryce seems to believe in him.” 

“Bryce does have an eye for talent. Who’s that new country singer he helped sign on?” 

“Toyota something?” Molly asked making Yasha laugh softly. 

“No. Fjord something.” 

“No idea. I try not to deal with the country people.” 

“They’re just confused by you Molly.” Yasha said soothingly. 

“Like, they look at me like I grew a third head. Yes, I happen to be a dude and yes I’m in a dress! It’s not that strange.” He huffed and Yasha laughed again. 

“For them it is.” 

“They need to get over themselves.” Molly huffed. 

 

“I’m home!” Nott called out as she shut the door to their apartment. One of the things Caleb liked the best about Los Angeles is that he could work on the patio without freezing to death; as demonstrated by the tea at his elbow, his notebook with half a dozen scrawled out lyrics, and the lit cigarette dangling from his other hand. 

“I am out here!” He called. Frumpkin rose to his feet and waited for Nott to step onto the patio before wriggling his butt and launching himself at her shoulders. 

“I brought food!” Nott said, settling down onto the other chair and giving Frumpkin a kiss. 

“I have good news.” Caleb said, tucking the notebook away before taking a drag. “I have work again.” He smiled gently. 

“That is good news!” Nott beamed as she put the take out on the table. “Who are you writing for? Is it Kanye West? Please, tell me they’re easy to work with.” 

“Mollymauk Tealeaf.” Caleb said. Nott paused as she opened a box of poke. Nott made a face and Caleb knew why. Molly had a reputation of being a diva, and demanding perfection from the people he worked with. 

“Isn’t he still in jail?” She asked. “Didn’t get he arrested for beating the shit out of someone taking his picture?” 

“Yes that was him. No, he is not in jail anymore.” Caleb said. “He’s….not as bad as I expected.” 

“What do you mean?” She asked as Caleb dug out his own poke bowl. 

“I…he is nice. He dismissed me at first, but then apologized for it. He seems sincere.” Caleb said. “He seems like he wants to try.” 

“Well yeah, you know he’s broke, right?” Nott asked. Caleb made a questioning noise around a mouth of rice and fish. “Oh yeah, rumor on the street is that he’s nearly broke. He’s living on royalties now, apparently.” 

“Ah, that explains this.” 

“Why Bryce would have you two work together?”

“Ja. Two birds, one stone. If we both fail he can let us both go at the same time.” 

“Don’t be such a downer Caleb. You are writing again.” 

“Ja, but it’s shit.” Caleb sighed, rubbing his forehead. “It’s a shitty pop song.” 

“Shitty pop songs pay bills, Caleb.” Nott said patiently.

“He also wants a love song.” Caleb said. 

“A long song? Who’s he with now?” 

“Nobody. I do not think.” 

“He broke up with that actor, what’s his face?” 

“Vax’ildan.” Caleb supplied. He had only been exposed to the two’s nasty, public breakup thanks to TMZ and every single shitty tabloid that was on every damn street corner in Los Angeles. “I do not think he is with anyone now, but he still wants a love song. I haven’t written a long song in years.” 

“I know you can do it.” Nott said with the unshakable faith that was reserved for the sun rising, the seasons changing and the 405 always being a hellscape of cars and traffic and construction. 

“I….have a little something.” Caleb said, a tiny smile playing on his face. Nott perked up and Frumpkin took the chance to steal some tuna and vanish into the apartment with it.

“Well?” Nott asked, putting her head in her hands as she smiled at Caleb. Her teeth were crooked and slightly yellow from growing up poor, and her clothes were a mismatch of different colors, but she was his closest friend, despite being nearly a decade younger. She had been homeless, back when she and Caleb had met. The two had stuck it out together, and now they had a tiny little apartment to call their own. 

“Alright, it’s just a basic melody, four chords.” 

“You only need four chords to write any love song.” 

“Yes, but he does not want this to be any love song. He wants something simple and sweet.” Caleb took a drag on his smoke as Nott dug out her phone. 

“Like this?” She said, hitting play. The simple strings of a ukulele filled the air and then a man began to sing. 

“Ja, I have not heard this cover. I am used to Elvis.” Caleb muttered. 

“Yeah, but I like this one best.” Nott said. Frumpkin dragged out his ribbon toy and plopped it into Nott’s lap. Caleb sang along as he watched the San Fernando Valley traffic creep by. He let himself listen to the music as he wondered if he was even able to write a love song as iconic as this one. 

He had only been in love once, and it had ended terribly. 

He doubted that he could be able to give Mollymauk what he wanted, but he was getting paid to try. 

So try he would.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The work begins.

“Oh, I’m so glad you made it!” Molly said, pulling open the door. Caleb had his eyes locked on a peacock that was strutting about the front yard. He watched as the bird spread his tail and made some kind of screaming noise.

“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.” Molly sighed. “Honestly, live peacocks? Sweet Lord, I made a mistake. Please, come in.” He stepped back, letting Caleb enter, tugging his robe shut. He was wearing harem pants under it, but he figured that Caleb wouldn’t want to see him shirtless right away. “Clay is cooking breakfast, and the family’s here.”

"Family?” Caleb asked as Molly shut the door with a click.

“Yeah, they live with me. The person who I was before bought this house, and it’s too damn big for me alone.” Molly’s voice started to echo as he wandered into the kitchen, and so Caleb followed.

The room was large and airy and bright and spacious, with a back wall of solid glass that looked out onto a patio and a backyard with one of those pools that went right to the edge of a cliff and vanished. The backyard was lush and green and full of riotous flowers of every color and shape, and Caleb watched as a peacock ate from a feeder as the peacock was surrounded by sparrows. The kitchen itself was done in tones of pastel green and pink, with a large rustic table toward the end of the room, a kitchen island with a coffee maker, a tea pot that was full of some kind of rich, black tea, and bowls of fruit. There was also an old piano in the corner, an upright that had seen better days. It was faded, and some of the keys were chipped, and there was graffiti on it. Caleb could tell it was loved.

“You know Yasha, of course. That’s Clay by the stove, and that’s Beau at the table. She’s Yasha girlfriend,” Molly said as he moved to the piano. “Get comfortable okay? Make yourself some coffee or tea, light up if you need.” Molly waved a hand. Somehow, in the two days since Caleb had seen him, Molly had gotten his nails changed; they were still blue and purple and sparkly, but they were no longer sharp and long.

There was a tall black man with round glasses, a silver ring in the middle of his nose, long dreadlocks piled on top of his head, stirring something at the stove with a cup of tea in hand. There was Yasha at the table and an asian woman with dark skin, dark eyes, an undercut, and metal in her face, blearly drinking from a cup of coffee. She grunted and nodded at Caleb before sipping her drink.

“Beau means ‘hello Caleb, nice to meet you’,” Molly said as he took a sip from his coffee cup before plucking out a few chords.

“Fuck you, Molly.”

“Fuck you too, Beau.”

“Hey there. Good to meet you. I’m Caduceus Clay.” Clay smiled at him. “You’re Molly’s new songwriter, right?”

“Ah, ja,” Caleb said, standing about awkwardly. He wanted a cup of tea and a smoke, but he wasn’t sure of that was alright.

“Go on. Molly likes it when people get comfortable in his house,” Clay said, nodding to the island. “Breakfast’ll be ready in five.”

Caleb’s stomach grumbled at the mention of breakfast, and that’s when the smells hit him like a ton of bricks. The smells of hot peppers and sausage and coffee and butter, and he was hungry. Molly played a few more scales to warm up before settling in to play.

“Go on, Mr. Caleb. His casa es su your casa,” Clay said.

“I’m not sure that’s how that works,” Beau grumbled as Caleb moved to make a cup of tea.

“Well, I was homeschooled, so I wouldn’t know,” Clay said as he pulled a joint out of the pocket of his robe. It was silk, like the one Molly was wearing. Only Clay’s was done in shades of green and pink, with the pattern of cherry blossoms, and Molly’s was blue and purple with, of course, peacock feathers on it.

Molly reached up to take a sip of his coffee and grabbed the mirror that he kept on the piano, tilting it softly. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Beau and Caleb engaged in soft conversation as the man made himself a cup of tea and lit up.

Molly was nervous as he started to play and sing softly. He was very nervous about Caleb. He normally didn’t invite people right away into his little family, but there was something about Caleb that made him want to bring the redhead into the fold. He watched as he played the opening chords to Rocket Man, knowing that Clay was watching him watch Caleb. There was nothing that got past that man, and he was always right in his judgement of people. He watched Caleb’s mouth twitch up in a smile and then…

Then Caleb started to mouth the words to the song. Molly pushed his shoulders back and started to sing a little louder, growing confident now that he knew Caleb liked Elton John, too.

“Rocket man, burning out his fuse out here alone,” he sang. And yes, Caleb was singing softly as he took a seat. He heard Yasha’s strong, clear voice join his own, and he smiled. He looked up in the mirror and locked eyes with Caleb.

“And I think it’s gonna be a long long time till touchdown brings me ‘round again to find.” Molly threw back his head, still keeping eye contact with Caleb, making Clay laugh at his antics. “I’m not the man they think I am at home.”

Caleb broke the gaze, unsure of what he was feeling. He couldn’t deny that Molly was pretty. Anyone who had been paying attention to the news knew who Molly was and knew he was pretty. He was like Chris Hemsworth; everyone agreed that Mollymauk Tealeaf was attractive.

“Does he play often?” Caleb asked Beau. He didn’t often like people right away, but Beau was one of those people. There was something about the woman he liked. She didn’t deal with bullshit, and Caleb liked that about her.

“Every fucking day,” Beau said. “He’s got a piano in all the major rooms. And this one is also for the backyard.”

“The glass doors open,” Clay said, turning off the stove and bringing the skillet to the table. “Opens the kitchen to the outdoors.”

“I only do that during parties or when it’s really nice out,” Molly said. “Cooling and heating this place is a fucking nightmare.” There was the echoing silence of a song cut off as Molly moved to the table.

“It is a bit large,” Caleb muttered.

“Yes, and I can’t handle being alone,” Molly admitted. “Thank God I’m still making royalties.”

“What?” Caleb asked, sitting awkwardly as Clay served up the food. It was eggs scrambled with mushrooms and onions and peppers, and Caleb dismayed at the sight. He took the time to quickly and quietly use his fingers to pick the meat and veggies out of his eggs, knowing he wouldn’t be able to eat it otherwise.

“I don’t have any contracts anymore,” Molly said softly. “They all dropped me. Chanel, Dior, Urban Decay, Versace, all of them. I’m living on royalties and little else.”

“I happen to be sleeping on a futon in an apartment in Van Nuys,” Caleb explained. Yasha and Beau made faces and Caleb nodded. “Ja. My friend and I make do, but ah…there was a woman who was making meth two floors above ours,” he explained. 

“So we both a need a hit. Good,” Molly said. “Nothing quite like desperation to get the creative juices flowing.”

Clay sat down next to Molly and stretched out. Clay was tall and thin, like someone had grabbed his wrists and ankles and pulled, stretching him like taffy. His ears were stretched, his hair was locked into thin dreads, and he looked to be at total peace with the world.

Caleb liked him.

“You two’ll make something great.” he said, grabbing a fork and digging in.

“You do not know me. How can you tell?” Caleb asked.

“I know people,” Clay said.

“Clay is a very good judge of character. It’s one of the reasons why I didn’t cut him off after my fall,” Molly explained. “Everyone at this table, and some people you haven’t met yet, are the only friends I still talk too. They’re the only ones that stayed by me. The only ones who called me out and helped me pick myself up.”

“Molly had surrounded himself with people who weren’t good for him,” Yasha said gently.

“They only liked him for what he could do for them, not for who he was,” Clay explained gently. “Like Molly was a possession, to be owned.”

“That is the nature of this town, unfortunately,” Caleb muttered.

“So the family you see here are the ones that have proven to actually care about me. Except for Beau. She’s only here because Yasha loves her,” Molly said. Beau threw a grape at Molly, who laughed as he was hit in the cheek by the grape. She threw a second one and Molly caught it with his mouth. “You’ll meet Jester soon,” he muttered around a full mouth. 

“Jester?” Caleb asked.

“My makeup and costume designer. She’s the sweetest girl on the planet, and she’ll adore you,” Molly said.

“Jester has a big heart,” Clay said. “She’s got a lot of love to give.”

The meal slowly grew lively as the others woke up. Beau and Molly had a unique friendship that consisted of insults and antagonizing each other, and frankly Caleb didn’t understand it. But Yasha assured him as they were gathering up the dishes that yes, this is normal, and yes, they really do like each other.

“Come on darling, we need to get to work.” Molly rose up, cigarette in one hand and coffee cup in the other. “And just for the record, I’m still recovering. I am trying not to be the person I was. So if I get nasty, just call me out and tell me to shut up,” he said.

“Ah, you have been kind to me so far,” Caleb muttered, taking his tea and his bag as he rose.

“But I wasn’t at first. I can be cruel, and I know that. So, please, just tell me to fuck off if I ever offend you or hurt you, okay?” Molly pleaded.

“Ah, ja. Alright,” Caleb said, wishing the others good day and thanking Clay for breakfast before following Molly. They trailed through a few rooms all lavishly decorated before Molly pushed open a pair of heavy oak doors. Caleb couldn’t help the sharp gasp that escaped him.

There, in the center of the room, was a piano. The room itself was again done in light colors with peacock-flavored accents, with picture windows that gave them both a large, panoramic view of the city. But the piano was what held Caleb’s attention.

It was a grand piano, large and imposing. It wasn’t black, like so many others that Caleb had seen. It was a pale teal color, and the bench was covered in peacock feather silk. And on the top of the piano, arranged to be shown off, was a peacock picked out in paint and crystals.

It was bright and loud and ostentatious and beautiful.

It was like Molly.

“Oh.” Caleb couldn’t help but gasp.

“Beautiful, isn’t he?” Molly preened. “He was a birthday gift from Marion.” He watched as Caleb padded over to the piano and gently ran his fingers over the highly polished wood.

“Marion, the studio owner?” Caleb asked. He put down his tea on the side table and lifted the cover for the keys.

“The same. She hasn’t given up on me yet,” Molly gossiped. He padded over to the windows and pushed a button, and a dark film slid down over the windows. It didn’t block the view, but it made the room a little darker. “Blocks out the brightness. We’re facing west, so it gets bright later in the day.”

Caleb didn’t even hear. He sat down at the bench and ran his fingers over the keys, the feel of a good piano sending shivers down his spine. He sat down and played a soft, simple scale.

“Oh,” he gasped, letting his eyes fall shut. His own piano at home was one he got at a thrift store for eighty bucks. It was old, chipped, and slightly out of tune, and Caleb felt resistance when he played it.

This was a piano made for a master. His hands felt like they were gliding on air as he warmed himself up, and he felt a tiny smile play over his face when he picked up Rocket Man from where Molly had left off earlier.

Molly turned and felt his heart stop in his chest. Caleb had the most angelic, peaceful smile on his face. The tension had left his shoulders, his jaw was no longer clenched, and his face wasn’t skewered into his perpetual frown. He was smiling softly, and his body language was calm and comfortable as he played. And, oh, Molly knew what this warmth was, spreading from his heart out to his stomach, making his lungs tight and his head swim.

He knew he was in love.

“Rocket man, burning out his fuse out here alone,” he sang, letting his voice do what it wanted instead of the normal growl that his singing had been. Caleb opened his eyes and blinked up at Molly, letting the music trail off.

“Ah, you have a nice piano,” Caleb muttered.

“You can play him any time you like. Just say the word, and you can come over,” Molly invited. He knew he would bend over backward now, just to see that smile on Caleb’s face again.

“Ah, no. This is too rich for the likes of me,” Caleb said with a bitter laugh.

“Is it?” Molly asked. “I’m willing to share anything you need. My home is yours, Caleb. For as long as you need it.”

“Ah, what?” Caleb asked, looking up at Molly.

“I….I’m lonely, alright?” Molly explained. “I’m not used to having so much empty space and empty air and empty rooms. I’m not used to feeling empty. So, I’m trying to invite people back in, but I have to be careful. I allowed myself to get taken advantage of in the past. That’s why I had you meet Clay. Clay’s…a very, very good judge of people. If he likes you, you’re part of the family.”

“Ah, I do not, I mean,” Caleb stuttered. “I do not have a family. Not anymore.”

“Well, this one’s here for you, if you ever feel like joining,” Molly said, a sly smile growing over his pretty face.

Caleb’s heart twisted in his chest, and he blushed, looking away. He wasn’t sure what this was in his chest, why he found himself stuttering and awkward around Molly. He didn’t know why he was nervous about the pop star. But he was.

“I shall keep that in mind,” he mumbled. He watched as Molly slid out of his robe and padded about the room in a pair of soft silk pants that were tight around his hips and ankles but loose everywhere else. The fabric clung to Molly’s body in a way that made Caleb blush.

“Alright, show me what you brought me,” Molly said, sliding onto the bench to sit next to Caleb. The scent of coffee and cigarettes and that damn vanilla and patchouli smell wafted from Molly’s hair, and Caleb swallowed.

“Ah, it is just a shitty pop song,” he said.

“Shitty pop songs have been my bread and butter for years; I have no problem with that,” Molly explained. He was close enough for Caleb to smell his aftershave and see the gem stones sparkling in Molly’s nipple piercings, and Caleb found himself wanting to trace the flowers and the stars and the moon and the sun with his teeth and his tongue and his lips and his hands. It was hard not to be attracted to Mollymauk Tealeaf. Anyone who liked men could agree that Molly was attractive.

Caleb swallowed and slid over the lyric sheet. He plucked out the melody, a simple ditzy pop song with a catchy hook that he had hummed out in the shower.

“This is good. This will sell.” Molly sighed.

“You seem unhappy,” Caleb muttered. “If you do not like it, I can change it.”

“No, no, no. Well, yes, I am unhappy. But not because of the song.” Molly ruffled his hair and shifted to straddle the bench, facing Caleb. “I’m an artist, Caleb. This isn’t art. This is the same cookie-cutter crap that’s been in the industry for decades. I want to make art. I want to push the boundaries and get people talking. I want to be bold and daring. I want to make something that makes people stop and stare in wonder and awe. I want to make something so beautiful, people forget all about who I was. Just like I have,” Molly said.

“I’m not the man in the black fishnets and black leather anymore, and I want people to know that,” He finished.

“Who are you now?” Caleb asked. “I am being serious. I need to know who you are now, so be able to write for you.”

“I’m a peacock,” Molly said with a sly grin. “You know this.”

“I know that is the persona you project. If anything, this morning has shown me that are you more than just a shallow man concerned only with beauty.” Caleb broke Molly’s gaze and fussed with a pack of cigarettes and lit up.

Molly paused, mouth half open. He sat back and started playing with his necklace: an old Mother Mary pendant he had been given before leaving Ireland. Before his downward spiral. Not many people had treated him like a serious artist before; he was known for writing songs about partying and having wild sex, not for making songs that touch the soul.

“I want to be myself,” he settled on. “I don’t want to be what anyone else wants me to be. I need to sing the shitty stuff to pay my bills right now. But when I’m back on my feet, I’m going to be who I want to be,” he explained.

“And who is that?” Caleb asked gently. He glanced at Molly out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know quite yet?” Molly admitted, his Irish accent leaking out. “Bu’ tha’s half o’ the fun,” he laughed.

“You are an odd one, Mollymauk Tealeaf,” Caleb muttered.

“Aye, ta be sure.” Molly laughed. “Alrigh’ let’s get workin’.” Molly settled down and played the melody as Caleb started to work on the counter melody.

They worked for most of the day. Clay came in and out to make sure they were eating and taking breaks, and together they got the three big tracks down and out of the way. Caleb was gathering up his notes as Molly padded over to the window.

“And as soon as we get these recorded, we can work on that love song,” Molly said as sunlight filled the room. It didn’t hit the piano, but it made it sparkle and glint and glimmer.

“I may have something for that,” Caleb muttered offhand. Molly turned to him, eyes wide and face lit with delight.

“Oh?” He asked, slinking over.

“Just a chord progression,” Caleb muttered, going red. It was hard not to squirm under the full weight of Molly’s gaze and presence.

“Darling, I’d love to hear it.” Molly leaned over his piano and shot Caleb a sly grin.

“It….well, alright. It is all I have at the moment.” He laid his fingers on the keys and played for Molly. It was a simple four chord melody, and it hung in the room after he played a small bit.

“Is that E major?” Molly asked gently. Caleb nodded and Molly frowned. “Try it in E minor for me.”

Caleb did so and he gasped sharply, looking down at the keyboard. He played it again and Molly nodded, smiling.

“Better,” Molly said.

“Ja. Better,” Caleb mused.

“Molly, you have therapy in two hours,” Yasha said, sticking her head into the study.

“Ah well, I’m sorry but we have to cut this short here,” Molly said.

“Ah, no. This is a good stopping place. Gives me a chance to think on the bus ride home,” Caleb explained.

“The bus?” Molly asked, confused.

“I do not have a car.”

“How do you get around LA without a car?” Molly had moved here nearly a decade ago and had gotten a car as soon as he could. Granted, he had already taken the UK charts by storm and was already famous overseas, so he had a bit of a leg up on Caleb.

“I do not,” Caleb explained. “This is the most I get out of the apartment.”

“For shame, darling. For shame,” Molly said. “That’s not going to work at all.” He was getting a plan together, and he glanced to Yasha.

“Molly, don’t.”

“Oh come on Yasha, he’s family!” Molly pleaded.

“Ah, what?” Caleb asked as he gathered his papers.

“Nothing darling. Nothing,” Molly said with a wave of his hand.

“I can swing by in three days,” Caleb offered.

“Three days sounds wonderful. I’ll call Bryce and get a studio reserved. What time works for you?” Molly asked.

“You…want me in the studio?” Caleb asked softly as Molly walked him to the door.

“Oh, yes. Yasha, do you mind driving Caleb home?”

“Oh no, please, I do not wish to be a fuss,” Caleb protested.

“It’s no fuss at all. I’d rather have someone drive you than you take the bus. Anything can happen on a bus,” Molly pointed out.

Caleb squirmed. He didn’t want to be a bother, but he had to balance out his metro card with his groceries. And he knew that, if he took the bus back, he wouldn’t have enough fare on it to afford the return trip from the store. He sighed, caving.

“Ah, as long as it is not too much trouble for Yasha,” he said gently.

“Hardly trouble, Caleb,” Yasha spoke softly. “I don’t have to drive Molly to therapy for a while.”

“Ah, yes, your DUIs,” Caleb muttered.

“Honestly. You get arrested three times for DUIs, and they take away your license for a year.” Molly rolled his eyes. Caleb blinked at Molly, not sure what to say.

“I, uh, ah, I mean,” He stammered.

“It’s alright; I’m clean now. And before you ask, it was twice for coke and once for heroin,” Molly said. “So Yasha can drive you to the bus stop or drive you home.” Caleb’s head was spinning with how casually Molly talked about his former addictions.

“Ah, if she could drive me home, I would appreciate it.” Caleb muttered.

“I can take you home.” Yasha smiled. She jangled the keys, and Molly kissed her cheek. Caleb braced himself for another kiss like before, only to have Molly hold out his hand for a shake.

“It was good working with you,” Molly said.

“Ah, likewise,” Caleb said.

Molly shook Caleb’s hand, and he was thankful that he remembered that Caleb had pulled away last time he had kissed Caleb good-bye. He had to remember that Caleb wasn’t comfortable with touch just yet.

“I’ll be back. Come on Caleb.” Molly followed Yasha as she led Caleb out of the house, Molly shutting the front door behind them both. 

Molly sighed softly, clutching at his chest. Oh, Mother Mary help him, he was head over heels in love with the other man. It was love at first sight, when he had met Caleb in Bryce’s office. And now here he was, Mollymauk Tealeaf, mooning after a nobody like some kind of love-struck teenager.

“So, is he part of the family now?” Clay asked from the upstairs balcony. The front door was framed on either side by wide, sweeping staircases that led up to the private bedrooms of his little family. Molly padded up to Clay, running his fingers over the walnut bannisters. He had paid too much for them, if he was being honest. “I hope he wants to be,” Molly admitted, looking up at his friend. “So, what do you think of him, Clay?” He asked.

“I like him.” Clay nodded. He frowned, then spoke slowly and carefully, like he was picking his words with care. “I don’t think he’s a whole person quite yet. He’s fragile. He’s trying to hold himself together but hasn’t quite found out how to do it yet.”

“He does seem to be made of spun glass.”

“Takes one to know one, Molly,” Clay said.

“I know,” Molly muttered softly.

“Hey, you’re getting there. This is a start. I think you two are going to actually find strength in each other. Help each other heal.” Clay nodded slowly. “But only if you let the other one do their work.”

Molly frowned and rested his forearms against the railing, looking at his friend. There were windows set high into the wall, and he watched the car with Yasha and Caleb slide down the gravel path and out the gate.

“I hope you’re right, Clay,” he said. He rested his head against Clay’s shoulder, and the big man patted his cheek gently.

“I’m good with people,” Clay admitted with a tiny smile of pride.

“Am I fool, Clay?” Molly asked gently.

“You love him already, don’t you?”

“Yeah. It’s bad.”

“Hardly bad. Just means that you have keep Caleb’s character in mind when you seduce him.”

“What makes you think I’m going to seduce him?”

“I know you.”

“You have a point. Let’s call Jester and get pizza.”

“I like Jester.”

“I like her, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos and comments feed the plot bunnies. And shoutout to the lovely Codescupltor for being the world's best beta!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.

Caleb frowned as he ran through the items in his cart. He was double-checking he had enough money in his wallet when the television that was being advertised started talking about Molly. He peeked up without stopping himself.

“So, there’s new dirt on Mollymauk and Vax’ildan’s breakup,” the woman on TV said.

“Cut the crap, what did Molly do now?” the man with the gray hair laughed on the TV.

It was TMZ and Caleb knew this was pure garbage and trash, but he found himself wondering what news they had on Molly. He found himself watching, despite himself.

“They made a sex tape.” The girl beamed and everyone on the tv hooted and hollered. “And it got leaked!” she crowed with delight, feet kicking with joy at the news that a private moment between two men was leaked and exposed.

Caleb’s stomach churned at their comments and noises. Pure disgust rose up in his belly and he had to turn his head. It wasn’t disgust at Molly making a sex tape; he was a grown person and he could do what he liked in his spare time, as far as Caleb was concerned.

It was the lack of respect to Molly’s privacy that turned his stomach. They were talking about Molly’s body and Vax’s body and their joining like it was something for public consumption, not something private, between two men who had cared for each other at one point. It was a gross violation of personal privacy and it disgusted him. He moved his cart up and started loading the belt with his food, ignoring the TV.

*~*~*

 

“HOW THE FUCK DID THEY GET THIS!?” Molly hollered, red in the face. “I know it wasn’t Vax! He would never have done this!” He was shaking with fury and his mascara was running as he cried. He hated being an angry crier. He sniffed and wiped at his cheeks softly. “I want them sued into oblivion,” he growled.

“You can’t sue,” Scanlan said from the couch.

The heyday of the wild eighties rock scene had taken a toll on Scanlan Shorthalt. He wasn’t young and handsome any more; his face was lined with age and partying and sometimes he slurred his words from too many drugs that had affected his brain, and he still dressed like a rock star, but he didn’t make much music anymore. He didn’t work much at all but he hung around the studio constantly now and had taken the younger rock stars under his wings. He had tried to mentor them, to pull them away from the part of the lifestyle that ate people alive, and he had failed with Molly the first time. He wasn’t going to fail again.

“If you sue you give them attention,” he said.

“They’re going to come after me no matter what. I am the hot news. I sell!” Molly laughed bitterly. “I should give them something to sell.”

“Molly, no!” came three voices at one. Bryce, Yasha and Scanlan fixed him with three pointed stares.

“Fine, fine,” Molly sighed, flopping onto the couch. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“Nothing. It’s on the internet already,” said Bryce. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Marion’s going to have my head,” Molly whined.

“Why did you do this in the first place?” Yasha asked.

“Seemed like fun at the time,” Molly said. Bryce sighed, pinching their nose. “How did they even know it was Vax? He was holding the camera because he didn’t want his face to be shown.”

“He’s got that tattoo. The one with the ravens,” Scanlan pointed out.

“Oh yeah.” Molly giggled, biting his lip as he remembered. “I forgot all about that.” 

“Molly, behave,” Yasha said.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Molly laughed.

“Contracts,” Scanlan said. “Contracts are the fun in that. Now, I made some videos in my day, and I know it’s different now with the internet, but you gotta keep this under wraps.” 

Molly sighed and looked over to the older man. “Has it changed? Really?” he asked softly. Scanlan sighed and ran his hand over his hair. There was a sense of desolation and loss in Molly’s eyes. It tore into Scanlan’s chest and twisted his heart around.

Molly had been through hell the past year, with Vax leaving him and then the drugs and partying getting out of control until Molly ended up in a fight, arrested, and then launching himself through a window in a coke-fueled escape attempt that ended up with Molly in the hospital with something around two hundred odd stitches all over his body as he started to go into withdrawal. Scanlan still remembered the screams coming from the hospital room as he turned the corner, desperate to help the young man. He remembered the crowds outside of UCLA and the helicopters overhead and the distinct lack of privacy and respect that Molly was afforded. They treated him like he was some sort of public commodity, something to be consumed and then spat aside once he was a dry, empty husk.

Scanlan wanted to keep that from happening to Molly.

“No, it really hasn’t,” he muttered. This town repeated the same cycle with different people; it raised them up and then it delighted in tearing them down. He had survived it when he was younger, and now it had ripped Molly to bits. It would still tear him to bits if Molly let it.

“Oh fuck,” Molly groaned, covering his eyes with his forearms dramatically. “I hope this won’t make Caleb change his mind about me.”

“You really like working with Caleb?” Bryce asked. Molly peeked out from between his arms, locking eyes with them.

“Yes. He’s very gifted. He just needs some fuel on the fire, that’s all,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. He failed terribly, his voice sounding hollow and tinny and fake even to his own ears.

“Molly, don’t lie to me,” Bryce warned in a low voice.

“I think I’m in love,” Molly said. 

Scanlan promptly choked on his coffee. 

“What?” Bryce asked, eyes wide.

“I think I love him. I’m not sure,” Molly said.

“Molly, I’m only going to ask you this once. Are you taking your meds?” Scanlan asked. Molly turned his head and locked eyes with the smaller man.

“I’m bi-polar, Scanlan, not crazy. Yes, I’m taking my meds. Twice a day, every day. And Yasha is taking me to therapy and rehab twice a week. I’m still on the bandwagon. I’m just in love,” Molly said. “Not even Vax felt like this.”

Not even Vax’ildan, the drop-dead beautiful model turned actor, had made his heart pound and his head swim and made him want to sing all the silly love songs he could. He barely knew Caleb and he was already in love with him. He knew he had to play this cool, but it was so difficult when he really just wanted to kiss Caleb and move him right into his house to live with him and Clay and Yasha and Beau.

“And you two were going to get married,” Bryce recalled, remembering the big, elaborate, star-studded wedding Molly had been talking about.

“I don’t think we ever were, really,” Molly mused. “I don’t think I loved Vax’ildan as a person. I loved him as a concept.”

“Is that Clay or you talking?” Scanlan asked.

“Clay. He’s much smarter than I am about people,” Molly admitted with a wry smile. “So, the big plan is just to let this die?”

“Once one of the Kardashians does something stupid you’ll be forgotten for a while,” Scanlan said. “Speaking of, is Kourtney single yet?” he asked, looking to Bryce.

“Scanlan, no,” Bryce sighed, putting their head in their hands. Scanlan laughed, throwing his head back.

“Oh come on, you know she’d love an older man.”

“Out!” Bryce ordered. “No more filth in my office! Out!”

There was laughter as the three of them tumbled out of Bryce’s office, Scanlan humming under his breath.

“You know, where are you guys writing?” he asked Molly as they headed to the elevator and climbed in. “Because you might want to try taking him somewhere for a change of scenery.”

“You know, that’s a wonderful idea,” Molly said. He tugged his earrings in place and pulled the sunglasses lower over his eyes as the elevator descended.

“There’s that cafe in Santa Monica right on the beach,” Yasha suggested.

“I’m not banned there?” Molly asked in surprise and delight.

“Nope. Not as far as I can tell.”

“Wonderful. We need to get make arrangements with Caleb to meet him down there. Perhaps Clay would be willing to pick him up,” Molly mused.

“I’ll talk to him,” Yasha offered. The elevator hit ground level and the doors opened.

There, behind the glass doors leading outside, were cameras. Cameras and film crew and reporters and people waiting to jump on him.

“Oh God, don’t they have anything better to do?” Molly muttered.

“Nope. They don’t,” Scanlan said. “I’ll distract them while you two get to the car. Meet you at your place?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Molly kissed Scanlan Shorthalt’s cheek and let the smaller man take the lead.

“Hello everyone!” Scanlan cheered, drawing attention to him as Molly and Yasha slunk out the side door. “Who’s got questions for good ol’ Scanlan?”

*~*~*

“Are you really a mortician?” Caleb asked the big man as they sat on the patio.

It was a beautiful day, and Molly had suggested they work on lyrics today and that they come down to a tiny cafe right at Venice Beach. The cafe had a patio that was at the sidewalk and Molly had gotten a table reserved for them in the corner, right near the edge of the patio. Clay had explained that Molly liked to keep himself accessible to any fan who wanted a picture of him or to talk to him; as Molly loved himself, he loved his fans more.

“Yeah, I work for the LA county office downtown,” Clay said in his calm, gentle way. “Man, you wouldn’t believe the bodies we get. It’s kinda sad in a way. There’s a lot of unclaimed people in the deep freeze.” 

“Ah, what do you mean by that? Unclaimed people?” Caleb asked, drinking from his beer. It was a good German beer and Caleb had caved and ordered it when Clay said that ordering what made him happy would make Molly happy.

“Homeless. Runaways. Youngest is only thirteen.” Clay shook his head softly. “Breaks my heart.”

“Why so? If you do not mind me asking?” Caleb said. He was curious about this strange man with the dreadlocks who was unphased by everything this world could throw at him.

“I don’t know if fate or destiny or whatever you call it is real,” Clay said softly. “I don’t know if people are meant to die young or if they’re meant to suffer slowly. All I know is that we are meant to deal with death with dignity, and these poor unclaimed souls are being denied that. And that’s not okay with me.”

“I never considered death with dignity,” Caleb muttered. His mind flashed to the housefire he had caused and he took a long pull of his beer.

“Something bothering you, Caleb?” Clay asked.

“Ah, no,” Caleb said with a wave of his hand. Clay just lifted an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t buy that for a second, but I’ll let it rest.”

“Thank you,” Caleb said. He wasn’t quite ready to let these new people know about his past. Nott knew, his therapist knew, and that was it. He didn’t want the sad looks and the quiet mutters that came with the tale of how he killed his family.

“So, so sorry darlings!” Molly said as he appeared at the side of the table. Caleb glanced up, taken aback by Molly’s sudden appearance. Today’s outfit was a fishnet shirt, Barbie pink leather pants embossed with scales, boots that were a foot tall but with clear plastic platforms with little fish suspended in them, and a purse shaped like a shell. “I swear to God, the day the 405 is done is the day I will die of shock.” He threw himself dramatically into the chair next to Caleb with a laugh. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long?”

Caleb could see the pink glitter dust on Molly’s high cheekbones and how his bright shiny lipstick caught the sun. He could see that Molly would have to get his hair bleached and dyed soon. He could see that Molly was wearing false eyelashes, and he forced himself to look away.

He wasn’t quite ready to examine why the other man made his heart pound and his hands shake. He wasn’t quite ready to figure out why the corner of Molly’s mouth looked so tempting.

“Oh, good, a beer sounds fantastic,” Molly said, catching the eye of the waitress as she wound over to the table.

“Molly,” Yasha stated as she sat next to Clay on the other side of the table.

“Just one. That’s all,” Molly said.

“I trust him,” Clay said.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, my dear.” Molly beamed. “Now, Caleb, what do you have for me to day?”

Caleb found himself stunned by the way Molly looked at him and he turned bright red and stammered a bit as he dug out his notebook with his lyrics. It was a cheap, spiral notebook and Molly frowned slightly as he took it.

“Remind me to get you proper writing stuff,” Molly said, flipping through the pages.

“Ah, no, Molly, I cannot accept it,” Caleb muttered.

“Caleb, please.” Molly fixed him with a stare. “I like taking care of people. It makes me happy seeing people I care about with nice things, knowing they’re taken care of. Let me take care of this for you.”

“Why?” Caleb asked. He was well aware of the eyes of the other two across the table as he faced Molly, trying to find some sort of deception in his face.

“Because I’d like for you to be a part of my family,” Molly said. “I like you. You’re so much smarter than me and there’s something…else about you.”

“Else?” Caleb asked.

“Like the world has plans for you, but they’re just getting started,” Clay said.

“Thank you, Clay!” Molly beamed as the waitress slid over.

Hours later saw Clay gone to work, Yasha doing something with a hoop and brightly colored thread and a needle and Molly and Caleb working together.

“Are you sure that star imagery is the right stuff?” Molly asked.

“Ja.” Caleb nodded. “I cannot explain it, but there is something in this that is speaking to me.” He couldn’t explain how or why this happened; only that sometimes he didn’t have to fish for the words. They came to him smoothly, like a fresh running stream or a gentle fall rain.

“Alright. I’m trusting you here,” Molly said. Yasha glanced over his shoulder and frowned.

“Molly, we’ve got company,” she muttered. The men both turned and looked over their shoulders and Molly cursed a blue streak.

“Don’t they have anything better to do?” he grumbled, glaring at them before throwing up his hands and sitting down in defeat.

Across the sidewalk, hunkered down in the sand near the ocean, were a large group of people with cameras. They were taking shots of them and tapping on their phones and talking with each other.

“They ruin everything. I hate them.” His jaw was clenched and his hands were shaking with anger. Caleb curled in on himself, unable to help the instinct to curl up in his chair and cover his head like he was a scared little boy.

“Molly,” Yasha said softly with a glance to Caleb. Molly saw how the other man was curled in his chair, hunched in on himself.

“Sorry, darling,” Molly said gently. He reached out and trailed the back of his knuckles over Caleb’s bicep gently. “I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I just…” He sighed. “I haven’t had good experiences with them,” he explained.

Caleb looked over his shoulder at Molly and saw genuine remorse on the rock star’s face. He forced himself to take a steady breath and relax a bit.

“They are going to storm this place as soon as we step off the property line, aren’t they?” he sighed.

“Yes. They can’t get closer when we’re on private property, but once we step onto the sidewalk we are fair game,” Yasha said. Molly sighed, rubbing his temples and turned his back to the large crowd.

“Goddamnit. It’s that fucking tape.” Molly sighed. “Caleb, please don’t think less of me for that.” He turned to Caleb, gray eyes wide. “I don’t care what they think,” he said with a jerk of his head to the cameras, “but I do care what you think of me.”

“As long as it was two adults consenting I do not care what you do in the privacy of your bedroom,” Caleb said. He was trying not to think of the sex tape, because the snippets he had seen had caused his pants to go tight and his face to flush and his dreams to start featuring Molly’s pretty, pretty mouth.

“Oh good.” Molly sighed. “I mean, I’ve been called a cocksucker my whole life, so now they know exactly how good I am it,” he laughed. Caleb turned bright red and Yasha heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“How about we pay our bill and go home?” Molly asked. “I know for a fact I want out of these shoes.”

“Why do you wear them?” Caleb asked as Molly tucked some bills under a plate with a scribbled note that said ‘change is tip!’

Yasha tucked away her needlepoint as she stood. She knew Molly had tipped very, very well as she tugged down her jacket and put her sunglasses on. She could see the paps moving as well, lifting their cameras and readying their recorders.

“I’m actually quite short. People think I’m taller than I am, so why not use that expectation against them?” Molly asked, standing up and picking up his purse.

“And the purses and outfits?” Caleb asked as he rose and followed Yasha out the door.

“I like being chaotic and unpredictable, and the purses are good to carry shit. Really, people need to carry purses more often. They’re a godsend. Women come up with the best ideas.” Molly beamed.

The three of them paused as Yasha put her hand on the door. Caleb could see the outlines of cameras and people and he could see tourists stopping and muttering. The natives to this place just wove around them, cussing out the paps for blocking traffic.

“Ready?” asked Yasha.

“Yes,” said Molly.

“No,” said Caleb.

“Just follow me. Stay in my wake. I’m big. People move for me,” Yasha said, shooting Caleb a tiny smile. Caleb shot her one back and nodded.

“Gotcha, big lady. I will follow behind you.” Caleb found himself liking Yasha more and more. She was steady and calm and gentle and big and he felt safe around her. She hadn’t pushed or pried or tried to make him do something he hadn’t wanted to do. He liked her very, very much. 

“Alright, darling. Here we go.” Molly linked arms with Caleb as Yasha shoved the door open.

It was chaotic mess of camera lens and shutter snaps and flashes and people’s voices as Molly led Caleb through the crowd.

_“Molly, what do you have to say about Vax dating that environmentalist lawyer?”_

“He’s a grown adult, so it’s fine by me and I hope he’s happy.”

_“Who leaked the tape?” “Was it Vax?” “Have you talked to him about it?” “Who’s the redhead, you two seem close!”_

“Hi, I’m Sarah for E! News, what’s your name?” A blonde had shoved her face into Caleb’s and he recoiled, clinging to Molly.

“Leave him alone, he’s none of your concern,” Molly said. Yasha paused as she hit the curb, waiting for traffic to pass.

_“You two seem close; Molly, is this your new boyfriend?” “How close are you?” “We saw him at your place last week?” “What do you think of the sex tape? Have you seen it?” “How long have you and Molly been dating?”_

“He’s none of your concern,” Molly snapped, turning to the paps. In one instant his body language had changed. He was no longer the open, friendly man that Caleb knew.

Here was Mollymauk Tealeaf, every inch the diva. He was cold and commanding and people turned their attention away from Caleb to Molly. They were spellbound by him somehow, by some aura he exuded. He demanded the attention of every person in the crowd, Caleb included.

“Do you want to know who he is?” Molly asked, shoving his glasses on top of his head. His eyes gray were cold and flashing with anger and his jaw was tense.

“Molly,” Caleb heard Yasha warn as the people with the cameras inched closer.

“Alright.” Molly laughed, smiling. He turned to Caleb and grabbed him. One hand on his neck and the other on the small of his back.

“Mollymauk what-” Caleb was cut off as Molly dipped him and kissed him in front of the crowd. They went nuts, taking as many pictures as they could as Caleb’s eyes went wide and his heart stopped beating with shock. He was pulled upright by Molly, still reeling. His brain was unable to form proper thoughts as questions bombarded him.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Molly said. “Toodles.” He waved to them and grabbed Caleb’s hand and tugged him down the street to the car. Yasha opened the door and Molly pulled him in, Caleb still in shock.

“Yasha, let’s go home,” Molly said as she slid into the driver’s seat.

“Yes. Let’s,” she agreed, pulling away.

Caleb was reeling from the kiss. He was in shock still, and his mind was churning the whole ride home. The ride was silent until Molly’s phone started ringing.

“Fuck, it’s Bryce.” He sighed. “Caleb, I need to take this.”

Caleb nodded gently, curling up into a tiny ball as they were driven home. Molly was on the phone the whole ride home and Yasha swore as she pulled up to the front gate. There were more cameras there too. Caleb slid down to hide from the windows and he curled into a ball as Yasha drove past them. Molly was still on the phone, arguing with Bryce about what to do.

“Well, frankly I don’t think we should make any kind of statement until Caleb tells us how he feels about this,” Molly snapped. “I’ll call you back.” He hung up and then turned off his phone as the car slid to a stop at the front door, the gates closing behind them.

“Caleb, how-” He stated to speak but then Caleb tumbled from the car and made a bee-line into the house. “Fuck,” he said. “Fuck, fuck fuck!” he cursed.

“Molly, calm down,” Yasha said.

“Why the fuck did I do that?” Molly bitched as he hurried after Caleb as best as he could despite his dumb shoes. He followed the other man into the house to find him clutching at his chest and shaking, staring into the middle distance and he gasped for breath.

This was a panic attack. Molly knew them well. He walked right up to Caleb and gently patted his cheek.

“Hey, you with me?” he asked. Caleb blinked and looked up at Molly before sliding out of his grip.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked Molly, voice high and unsteady.

“A mistake,” Molly said as Yasha shut the front door. “It was a mistake and I shouldn’t have done it. But the cat’s outta the fucking bag, Caleb.”

“And whose fault is that?” Caleb snapped as he paced the foyer.

“Mine,” Molly said. “I know, I know I fucked up. Please, Caleb, we need to figure out a plan of attack here.”

“A plan of attack? What?” Caleb asked. “I am going home.”

“You can’t,” Yasha said. “If you leave now, the paps will see. And then more rumors will start. You two need to put on the act of a happy couple, if just for night.”

“Tonight?” Caleb yelped. “I, I cannot stay here the whole night, I have a cat and I have a roommate and, and-” His breathing was coming hard again and Molly grabbed his cheeks and forced Caleb’s face toward his own. His eyes were screwed shut and he was shaking. Caleb was very clearly panicking and freaking out and it broke Molly’s heart.

“Hey, hey,” he said. “None of that now, okay?” He kissed Caleb’s forehead gently. The touch was somehow calming and Caleb found he didn’t like it. He wriggled out of Molly’s grip, but he wasn’t pancaking anymore.

“I’ll get one of the spare bedrooms ready,” Yasha muttered.

“The green one,” Molly said at once. “I think Caleb will like that one.”

Yasha nodded and vanished. Molly sighed, ruffling his hair.

“Caleb, I’m sorry,” he said. “I….fuck, please keep working with me?”

“You…you assaulted me, Mollymauk,” Caleb said firmly. “I did not agree to be kissed.”

But his mind was playing the kiss in a loop and oh, damn his memory for being able to remember every feeling, every sensation, every moment of Molly’s mouth on his and damn his body for wanting it again.

“I’m sorry. I know. I’m sorry,” Molly pleaded. There were tears in his eyes and he took a deep breath. “There’s no excuse for that, and I’m sorry. Please don’t go. I can’t… I can’t make a comeback without you.”

“Is that all you want me for?” Caleb asked. “My music?”

“No,” Molly said. “I was hoping you’d be a friend.”

“Molly, what you did to me was wrong.”

“I know. And I won’t do it again.”

“Molly, you lied to the press. You are not just dragging myself into the spotlight, but you are dragging Nott into it as well.”

“Nott?”

“My roommate and best friend. She does not deserve this.” The thought that being keelhauled by the Los Angeles celebrity culture wasn’t something he deserved either never crossed his mind.

“I’ll take care of her too. If she’s your family, then she’s mine,” Molly said. “Please don’t go,” he begged.

Molly was terrified. Pure terror was clutching at his throat and he was horrified. His actions may have cost him Caleb, and that thought scared more than anything else. He didn’t just need Caleb for his lyrics (which had the promise of greatness in them), but he also needed Caleb because he loved him, pure and simple.

“I cannot. I am trapped. I am a prisoner here,” Caleb muttered.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, you can leave in the morning.” Molly sighed. “You can leave in the morning. Just stay for the night, have breakfast, and Yasha can drive you home tomorrow.”

“Why?” Caleb asked. “Why should I stay? I have no clothing to sleep in, nothing to brush my teeth with.” He sighed, fiddling with his phone.

“I have spare clothing. We’re about the same size. You can sleep in some of my clothing and I have plenty of spare toothbrushes and things. You can stay in a guest room and leave tomorrow. Unless you want to be mauled by the paps.”

Caleb sighed, knowing he was defeated.

“Fine, fine. Just…let me call Nott,” he sighed. Molly nodded as Yasha appeared on the steps.

“Caleb, your room is ready,” she said. Caleb didn’t bother saying goodbye to Molly as he followed her up the steps. Neither of them spoke as she led him to a bedroom and left him alone there.

He slid inside and shut the door and was delighted by the room Molly had picked for him. It wasn’t bright and loud like the rest of the house; this room was simple and nearly rustic in its decor. It was done in soft earth tones, with a green carpet and light brown furnishings and a large window seat that looked out onto the gardens and the pool in the back. What Caleb liked most, though, were the bookshelves. They were loaded with books of every sort and size and Caleb knew he would be happy to spend in the night in this room.

He had to call Nott first.

He knew that Nott would have no issues taking care of Frumpkin for the night; more than once he had come home late to find her curled up on the couch around Frumpkin, the cat purring and making biscuits on her thigh as his friend slept away. He knew that Nott loved his cat as much as he did, and that Frump was safe with her. But he also knew that she worried over him and fussed, almost like a mother at times. He didn’t want to worry her.

She picked up and he explained the situation, barely keeping the panic at bay. She of course agreed to keep an eye on the cat, and asked if Caleb needed to be broken out of his fancy jail, making him laugh. He assured he was alright before hanging up and toeing off his shoes. He found a book that looked promising and curled up on the window seat, trying to ignore how his mouth still burned with Molly’s kiss.

He tried to ignore how he wanted to find Molly and kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to the wonderful Crunchywrites for being a badass beta!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks are shared. Rules are established. Boundaries are respected.

Caleb sighed. He rolled over in his bed, trying to get to sleep. Sleep was impossible. This wasn’t his bed, these weren’t his sheets, and the smell of Mollymauk clung to the fabric of his shirt. It was one of Molly’s shirts, too large to wear outside, but perfect for sleeping in. Granted, it had a little cartoon graveyard with the phrase “Easter is canceled we found the body” on it, but that was beside the point.

Every time he shifted, he smelled Mollymauk. That damn sweet and smoky smell of vanilla and patchouli and nag champa and cigarettes that Caleb was fighting not to inhale. He was unable to sleep, tossing and turning until the wee hours of the morning. He had refused to leave the room, and Clay (bless him) had come by with food and clothing and had tried to get Caleb out of the room. He refused. Clay had let him be, but now Caleb found himself slipping out of the bed to wander the big empty house.

It was somewhat eerie, and Caleb’s mind supplied him with the image of Jane Eyre wandering Rochester’s house alone at night, following his first wife who was kept in the attic. He shoved those thoughts away and padded down the hall. He peeked into the rooms. They were mostly bedrooms. He found a bathroom with a coffee maker in it for some strange reason, and a room that was full of pool tables. He avoided the part of the house that the others lived in, not wanting to disturb their sleep.

He padded down the steps and into the main part of the house. He was headed into the kitchen when he saw the door to the study was closed, but light was peeking out from under the door and a soft, slow song was playing. He got closer and heard the sounds of a soft guitar and gentle drums and a deep voice and he found that he liked this artist. He inched the door open and paused.

There was Molly, standing next to his turntable, looking out the dark window, dressed in a robe and bare feet, swaying with the music softly. He must have made a noise or something because Molly opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder.

“Ah, sorry.” Molly reached over and turned the volume down. “Didnea mean ta wake ye.” His accent was thicker than normal.

“Ah no. I couldn’t sleep,” he confessed. “Are you drunk?”

“Jus’ tipsy,” Molly said softly. “Takes more’n one glass ta get an Irishman drunk.” He moved softly, pouring a second glass and topping off his own.

“I can’t sleep either,” Molly explained. “Come on. Come listen.” He held out the glass and Caleb felt like he was on the verge of something. He wanted to run, to hide, to back away from this. Mollymauk was a bright superstar, shining white and burning bright whereas Caleb was a dun, drab thing in comparison. He didn’t deserve to be here.

But his feet moved for him, shutting the door as he moved into the study.

“Who is it?” He asked, padding over to Molly and taking the glass.

“Hozier. Man’s no’ o’ this world I think.” Molly moved back to the window, swaying as he sang along. “Remember me, love when I'm reborn, as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn.” He sang, voice wobbling but still true to pitch.

“I have heard his work before,” Caleb muttered, sitting on the couch. He curled his feet up under him and took a sip of the whiskey, making a happily surprised noise at the quality.

“Aye, it’s the good shite,” Molly bragged.

“Should you be drinking?” Caleb asked. Molly laughed bitterly.

“They’ve taken everythin’ else from me. I’ll be damned before I let them take m’ drink.” Molly muttered.

“You know, I have heard people say that you are not of this world.” Caleb mused softly. Molly turned on his heel with a smile on his face.

“Aye, I’ve heard tha’. I’m delighted by tha’ ta be honest. I’m more than happy bein’ otherworldly.” He waved his arms about, the silk sleeves of his robe trailing.

“You know, I have been thinking,” Caleb said.

“Is there a time when yer not thinkin’?” Molly asked.

“When I am reading. It shuts up my mind. But that is not it. I was thinking about what happened today.”

“I am sorry, Caleb.” Molly’s gray eyes were earnest as he looked at Caleb. The lighting in the study was soft and cozy, bathing the pop star in a soft, golden glow. It made him somehow more human; as if he ceased to be a larger-than-life being in the soft glow of the fireplace and the lamps. It was soft and golden and gentle, and Caleb had a feeling he was seeing a side of Molly most people don’t get to see. “About today.”

“I have done something thinking and I still want to work with you,” Caleb said. 

Molly’s knees gave out. He grabbed the piano as he sighed softly. “Sweet mother Mary, thank you.” He muttered. “Thank you, Caleb.” He said. “Thank you. You’ve saved me.”

Molly knew he wasn’t able to write this new album by himself, and he knew that Caleb needed someone to sing.

“But what are we going to do about the press?” Caleb asked.

“Ye know, I have a suggestion. It’s mad, but it might work.”

“Oh?” Caleb asked, taking a sip.

“We pretend ta be daitin’,” Molly said. “In front of the cameras, fer the press, fer the talk shows and the award shows. But in here, when it’s jus’ you an’ I an’ our family, we’re not. We’re just us.”

“Pretend…Molly that’s a lie.”

“Aye, an’ a damn good one. The kiss already went viral. I won’ push or kiss ye in private or anythin’.”

“We need to establish ground rules if we do this.” Caleb spoke carefully and slowly.

His mind was running wild, doing what it did best; plot and plan. He was supposed to have been a ladder climber, but that never worked out, but his mind was still sharp.

“We need to establish what we do, where we go, who we talk to, what details of our private life we share,” Caleb said.

“We also need ta get to know one another. Inside an’ out.” Molly nodded.

“Ja.” Caleb mused. “No touching below the belt. No lovemaking. You can kiss me in public as long as there is no tongue.”

“Alright. No tongue, no fuckin’.” Molly said. “Anything else? What about parties?”

“No parties.” Caleb said.

“Caleb, I have an image ta maintain. Parties are a part of that.”

“Alright, but we do not stay overnight.”

“Deal. I like sleepin’ in my own bed anyway. Speakin’ of, ye an’ yer friend need ta move in. Keep up appearances.”

“Nott as well?”

“Aye. I’ve got a mean streak a mile wide, but I’m not heartless. I can see how much she means ta ye. Yer family Caleb. So’s she.” Molly said.

Caleb nodded, slowly thinking about all of this. “I will have to talk to her. She is skittish.”

“Not right away, if ye don’ want. I jus’ mean that if yer supposed ta be m’ boyfriend it would be odd if ye stayed in that apartment. Besides, I don’ think there’s much in the way of security over there.” Molly explained. Caleb nodded.

“How long are we going to keep this up?” Caleb asked.

“How does New Years sound? Gives us time to write and promo the album, an’ gives you time to get back on your feet.”

“I….” Caleb bit his lip. It was high June, bright and sunny and Los Angeles was gearing up for the summer. Six months of living and working with Molly, pretending to be his boyfriend, and Caleb would be back on his feet. It was tempting.

“And Bryce? What are we going to tell them?”

“The truth. I don’ wan’ ta lie ta ‘em.”

“Good. Neither do I.”

“What’s yer answer?” Molly looked at Caleb, head tilted. The record stopped and Molly flipped it over, his back to Caleb.

“Ja. I will pretend to be your lover.”

“Mmm ‘lover.’ I like tha’ word. Very intimate.” Molly laughed softly. Something in Caleb’s chest eased at the sound. A laughing Molly was a happy Molly, he had come to learn. “An’ the rules are good?”

“The rules are good. I am satisfied, Mollymauk Tealeaf.” Caleb said with a sly smile. “For now.”

Molly turned and caught the edge of the smile on Caleb’s face. His heart flipped in his chest and he knew that crises had been averted. Plus, now he would get to kiss Caleb like he had been craving.

One kiss and Molly knew he could never be able to kiss another person again. He knew that Caleb was going to be the love of his life and that he would never be able to look at another soul the way he looked at Caleb. Nobody could compare.

“So, ye like readin’.” Molly as he sat on the couch next to Caleb. “Who’s yer favorite author?” He asked.

Caleb blew out his cheeks as he whistled, eyes going wide. “Ah, I do not think I can pin down a favorite.” He admitted.

“Yer top five then.” Molly said.

“Austen. Thoreau. Wells.” Caleb spoke carefully, picking his top five. “Both of the Shelleys but they only count as one.”

“I am Ozymandias: king of kings.” Molly recited.

“Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair.” Caleb chuckled.

“Tha’s four. Ye owe me one more.” Molly teased, taking a sip of his drink.

“King. I am quite fond of Stephen King.”

“Oh? Ye don’ strike me as a horror fan.” Molly admitted. He was lounging now, the robe half open to expose his pale chest and Caleb tried not to look.

“I am actually quite a fan of ghost stories.” Caleb confessed, taking a sip of his glass. It was half empty, now, somehow, and his muscles were loose and his smile was coming easier.

“Oh? Yer talkin’ ta an Irishman. Wha’ ghost stories do ye got?”

Perhaps it was the whiskey that loosened his tongue but Caleb started to speak.

“I was lucky to have grown up on the west side of the Wall.” Caleb said slowly. “So we may not have had much, but we had a little. Papa always made sure we had a little. Every summer, when I was a boy…” His throat grew a bit thick and he took a sip of his drink. “When I was a boy, we would go to the Black Forest. It is one of the most haunted forests in the world.”

“The Black Forest? Why does tha’ sound familiar.”, mused Molly.

“If you like the Brothers Grimm, you know of the Black Forest. That place is what they wrote about.” Caleb explained.

“An’ yer da’ took ye there when ye were a boy? Sweet Jesus.” Molly muttered.

“Ja, I…I was six years old when I saw the horseman.”

“Horseman?”

“There is a headless horseman that wanders the forest at night. I was six and it was a full moon-”

“Hold on.” Molly held up a hand and Caleb stopped.

He watched as Molly slid onto his stomach, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch and a blanket and snuggled down into it. He rested his head on the pillow and wriggled closer until he was resting his head near Caleb’s thigh. “Sorry, I like ta get cozy when I hear ghost tales. Go on.” Molly urged, looking up at him with his big gray eyes.

Caleb felt his heart flip and a high blush stain his cheeks. He wanted to reach down and curl his fingers through Molly’s hair and hum gently to soothe him to sleep.

He had to remind himself that they were fake dating, and that Molly only cares about him for his music and lyrics.

“It was a full moon and I was six years old. I snuck off the couch, I-I slept in the living room and my parents got the bedroom of the cabin, you see. So I was reading late at night, by the light of the full moon. It was quiet, which was unusual. Most of the time, forests, they are full of noises.”

“Aye, I know.” Molly nodded. “I did grow up in Ireland.”

“Ah, ja you did.” Caleb agreed. “So, I did not notice it was quiet until all the crickets were gone. It was so quiet I could hear the stream in the woods, where I would read and play by.”

“You read a lot, don’ ye?”

“Yes, I do. Now shush I am telling a story.” Caleb teased and Molly giggled.

“Oh sorry.” Molly gasped, nose wrinkling as he giggled.

His smile was bright and his laugh was genuine and Caleb felt his mouth go dry. He forced himself to look away and he took a sip of his drink, head spinning.

“Anyway, I was reading by an open window, late at night, when it went quiet. I looked up and there, at the edge of the wood, was a figure. I dropped down and hid and then I heard hooves coming up the walk. The steady clop-clop of a horse on a gravel trail. A shadow started to grow on the floor, and I saw the shape of a man’s torso. I saw his shoulders and his chest and the head and neck of a horse.”

“But no head.” Molly gasped with delight, a wide smile on his face.

“Ja. No head. Then, I saw a hand, reaching out and heading toward the open window.” Molly gasped, eyes wide. He was leaning in with eagerness, hanging on Caleb’s every word. Caleb kept his voice low and melodic, reeling Molly in with the tale.

The record stopped but Molly didn’t move to play more music. His whole focus was on Caleb and Caleb’s story and Caleb found that being the center of Molly’s attention made shivers run down his spine.

It was intoxicating, knowing that Mollymauk Tealeaf was hanging on his every word.

“I saw his hand, splayed wide. I saw his fingers. I could see he was in armor, by the bulk of the shadow.” Caleb reached out to Molly’s face with his hand, perhaps being a bit dramatic, but who could blame him?

Who could blame him when Molly was looking at him like that?

“What did ye do?” Molly asked, voice quiet. Caleb grinned and leaned in, knowing he was a little tipsy but not caring. He only cared about Molly, looking at him like that.

“I ran,” Caleb admitted. “I ran, right into my parent’s room.”

“Oh, come on!” Molly crowed, rolling over onto his back. “Coward!”

“I was six years old!” Caleb laughed. “My parents took away all the scary books. I did not read them again until I was on my own.”

“And when was that?” Molly asked.

“I was…sent away to school when I was thirteen,” Caleb said, growing tense. He didn’t want to talk about it.

“Boarding school or military?” Molly asked.

“Military. My father was a military man, so I hoped to follow in his footsteps.” Caleb said, in a tone that implied he wanted to drop this subject.

“Never would have pegged you for the military type.” Molly said.

“Tragedy changes a person.”

“Oh?”

“My parents are dead, Mollymauk. They died when I was only seventeen years old.”

“Shite.” Molly sat up. “I’m sorry.” He said. “That’s….hard.”

“Ja.” Caleb drained his glass and Molly rose to grab the bottle. He poured himself and Caleb new glasses.

“Do you have a question for me, Caleb?” Molly asked. The tone had been fun until Caleb’s parents were brought up. Molly made a note not to ask about it again.

“Ja, actually.” Caleb said, taking the glass from Molly when he sat down again. “Who is your biggest inspiration - who is not Freddie Mercury?”

Molly laughed, throwing his head back. “Ah, Freddie.” Molly sighed. “Is it really that obvious that he’s my inspiration?”

“Ja.” Caleb nodded. “It is.”

“Oh, ja?” Molly giggled, putting on a terrible German accent. Caleb chuckled, hiding his smile behind his hand.

“Your accent is appalling.” He teased. Molly laughed some more, nose wrinkling with joy. He snorted as he laughed and Caleb found himself entranced by the sight of a true smile on Molly’s face.

“Oh, that’s cute.” He muttered to himself.

“Did you say somethin’, darlin’?” Molly asked.

“Nein, no.” Caleb lied, taking a sip of his whiskey before he could say something stupid again.

“So why is it obvious? About Freddie?” Molly tucked his legs under himself and leaned into Caleb. It was cozy and intimate and the amber haze of the whiskey made everything warm and happy.

“The way you play with a crowd.” Caleb said. “I have seen many, many recordings of you both. He plays with the crowd the way you do. He reels them him and hypes them up like you.”

Molly was beaming and blushing. “I learned from him.” Molly admitted. “He was….the greatest. There will never be another like him, again.”

“Ja, that is the truth.” Caleb said. “The stars were just right for them.” He had a great love in his heart for Queen; his father had listened to them when he had been a boy.

“You’ll never be able to guess who the second one is.” Molly teased.

“I know I will not be able to. You are…an enigma, Mollymauk Tealeaf.” Caleb said.

“Me? I’m jus’ me. I’m jus’ a pop star tryin’ to make a comeback. You, you’re the mysterious one.” Molly teased, making Caleb blink. “It’s Eartha Kitt if I must confess.”

“Eartha Kitt?” Caleb asked.

“Not just fer her music. She was a brave woman. Very outspoken about what she cared about, about her causes. I can admire that.” Molly admitted.

“You know, Clay and I were speaking earlier today before the…” He waved a hand. “And apparently there are a lot of, ah, unnamed bodies in the morgue. It’s disturbing to him, he is distressed by it. Perhaps, if you lend your star power to the cause, they can find their names again.”

Molly sat back and sipped his whiskey, thinking. “I do need to do to some philanthropy. Bryce mentioned it.”

“It is a good place to start.”

“And nice an’ odd.” Molly laughed. “People would not be surprised I’m workin’ with the dead.”

“Ja. It is a good place to start.” Caleb suggested. Molly nodded, shooting Caleb a smile.

Maybe it was because he was drunk, but his eyes kept drifting to Molly’s lips. His brain kept making him remember the feeling of Molly’s mouth on his own and he wanted to bridge the gap and kiss Molly right here.

“So, Eartha Kitt?” He asked, instead.

“That’s why I want to record Santa Baby.” Molly confessed. “Not just to cause a stir, but because I love Eartha Kitt.”

“Ah, noted.” He tapped his temple. Molly reached out and brushed some of the hair from his temple and Caleb didn’t squirm away. In fact, he leaned into the other man’s touch a bit.

“Yer goin’ gray a wee bit.” Molly muttered.

“Well, I am over thirty years old.”

“You are? I just turned twenty-three.”

“Ah, that is a decade age gap.” Caleb winced. “People will talk.”

“Ah, let them talk.” Molly kept his eyes trained on the gray streaks in the red hair. He found that he liked the gray, that somehow it made Caleb more distinguished. He wondered what Caleb would look like with a salt and pepper beard and felt a flush of need roll down his spine. “I mean, I am known fer datin’ older men.” He admitted.

“You…like older men?” Caleb asked softly.

“I do. It’s…my therapist in rehab said that I was seekin’ approval from a parental figure, which is why I chase older men.” Molly explained.

“Do you think that is true?”

“I don’ know. I don’ know anythin’. Tha’s part o’ m’ charm.” Molly laughed. “But the age isn’t an issue for me.” He said. “Wha’ abou’ yerself? Who is yer biggest inspiration?”

“You will never guess.” Caleb said, happy to move on from the fact he was fake dating a boy ten years his junior. It made him feel like a dirty old man, in a way. Molly sat back and looked at Caleb, thinking.

“Green Day.” Molly said. Caleb blinked and glanced over to Molly.

“How do you figure that?”

“Their lyrics have deep meanin’. Deep layers. Yers have that.”

“I do like their work, but they are not my greatest inspiration.” Caleb confessed. Molly bit his lip and turned to face Caleb, sitting cross-legged as he pondered.

“Bowie?” Molly guessed.

Molly watched as Caleb’s face, normally so taciturn and stoic broke into a slow, growing, glowing smile.

“How did you know?” Caleb asked in soft delight.

“Stars.” Molly said. “He was the Starman, after all.”

“Ja. He is my biggest inspiration. And it is not just his lyrics. It is him as a person. I often mind myself admiring him. He was very brave, to live as himself. He was…his own person, despite what the world thought of him. I admire him greatly for doing that. He was very brave and I wish I was like him.” Caleb said gently. “People often compare you to him, and they are right.”

“Me? Oh God no, I could never compare to Bowie.” Molly shook his head. “So, ye have Bowie fer yer lyrics, an’ who fer yer music?” Molly asked. “Because statin ’ Bowie jus’ fer lyrics is suggestin’ someone else.”

“Ja, a very good point.” Caleb downed the rest of his booze and gestured to the piano. “Do you mind?”

“Oh please, Caleb dear, play for me.” Molly stretched out on the couch, moving his spine like a cat’s to get settled.

It was a little bit distracting, and Caleb was thankful for the piano. He quickly slid onto the bench and played a few scales to warm up his hands. He glanced over to Molly, who was resting his chin on his hands, feet in the air, an eager smile on his face.

Caleb had no idea where it would go, but he started to play. It was low and soft, with smooth gentle repetitions, with something oddly psychedelic about it. It was calming to listen to and calming to play, and he couldn’t help the tiny smile that spread over his face as he heard Molly gasp.

“Oh, Floyd!” Molly cackled with delight, throwing his head back. “Oh m’ God you an’ I are goin’ ta make beautiful music Caleb.” He said, shooting Caleb a smile that was so bright it was blinding, even in the darkened room. Caleb blushed bright red, ducking his head.

“I am glad you were able to spot it,” he confessed.

“How could I not?” Molly asked.

The fact that Caleb, while drunk, was able to improvise a song that sounds just like Roger Waters’ work, on the fly, in the middle of the night, spoke to just how talented Caleb was as a musician. It boggled Molly’s mind and made him feel something akin to humility. He knew that he would never be as talented a musician as Caleb was, and he found that he was okay with that. He found that he was perfectly alright with sitting to the side and basking in Caleb’s natural talent.

“What’s yer favorite movie?” Molly asked.

“I really do not watch much in the way of movie or television. I prefer books.” Caleb muttered.

“Well, what have you always wanted ta read but never have?” Molly asked.

“A Song of Ice and Fire.” He said. “I…I know the father dies early in the story, and I do not think I will, um, I mean, I do not think I can, ah.”

“Handle it, after ye lost yer own da’ so young.” Molly nodded. “I understand. What else?”

“I have always wanted to read Gone with the Wind.” Caleb confessed. “I just never have found the time.” He felt oddly comforted by the fact that Molly had just accepted his reasoning and moved on without prying and poking and prodding. It was nice to have a boundary respected. 

“I’ve never seen the movie.” Molly admitted.

“Didn’t you go as Scarlet O’Hara last Halloween?” Caleb asked, confused.

“Yes.” Molly said. “I did.”

“But you have not read the book or seen the movie.”

“Correct.” Molly beamed with that thousand-watt smile.

Caleb laughed, doubling over. He was drunk and he knew it, and Molly was laughing too. Caleb curled into a ball and his arms hit the piano keys, making a sharp ugly noise bounce around the study. Molly just laughed harder, clutching at his stomach. He was wheezing and snorting and the fact that Molly snorted when he really laughed hard made Caleb laugh even more as his heart flipped in his chest.

They both jumped and gasped as the light switched on. There was Beau in the dark doorway, wrapped up in a robe that was three times too big for her in every way and therefore was probably Yasha’s.

“Hey assholes, some of us are trying to sleep.” She grumbled.

“Ah, ja sorry.” Caleb gasped. Molly wiped the tears from his face and grinned at her.

“Sorry, Beau. I’ll keep quiet.”

“That’s impossible and you know it. Why the fuck aren’t you two asleep. It’s nearly three in the goddamn morning.”

“I couldn’t sleep and I woke Caleb up. We’ve been talkin’.” Molly explained.

Beau’s sharp eyes glanced from Molly to Caleb and Caleb could tell that there was something working her brain, that she was observing and filing things away.

Beau was much smarter than she let on. He knew that she knew something was up. He knew that she knew that he had some feelings for Molly. He made a mental note to keep her close.

Also, to nip his stupid little crush in the bud. Molly had not only come out of a nasty break (with Vax’ildan of all people) but he was beyond Caleb’s league. He was light-years ahead of Caleb’s league. And even if he was in the same league, it’s not like Caleb deserved him.

Caleb was a monster, a beast. And beasts do not get the beauty.

“Sorry, Beau. I need to head to sleep. I am finally tired,” he confessed.

“Ah, I might as well go sleep too.” Molly rose and stretched his back popping.

“Whatever,” she grumbled, padding away but leaving the door open in a clear statement of ‘go the fuck to sleep’. Molly sighed, turning to Caleb.

“We were caught.” Molly giggled and Caleb shook his head.

“It is you, you are the loud one.” He pointed to Molly as he rose.

“Oh, ye have no idea, Mr. Caleb.” Molly flirted.

Caleb blinked, turned bright red, and tripped over his own feet as he tried to free himself from the piano. Of course, Molly had meant for that to be an innuendo, and now his mind was happily galloping off to dirty places. Part of Caleb wanted to know what Molly sounded like as he came. He turned as red as his hair and refused to look at Molly.

“Alrigh’, sorry.” Molly said gently. “Ye do like men, right?” Molly asked.

“Ja.” Caleb nodded. “I…like men.”

“Okay good. I should have asked that first, I’m sorry.” Molly muttered.

“No, I did not even think that needed to be asked.” Caleb confessed.

He turned off the lights as Molly put away the record and the booze. Molly padded into the kitchen and put the glasses in the sink as Caleb fixed up the couch and made it neat. Caleb was thankful that the other man was gone because it gave him the chance to master his body and get his half-hard cock to go down. He normally didn’t have much of a sex drive, but there was something about Molly that kicked it into high gear.

Molly padded through the study, checking to make sure the front door was locked.

“Alrigh’ love, let’s get ta bed, aye?” Molly said softly. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes and Caleb felt that same sharp-sweet ache in his chest. Molly was sleepy and tired and it showed in how his accent was rich and thick and his movements were slow. 

“Ja. Let’s.” He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to the wonderful AbeTheDadTM for being my beta! I love you, my son.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb comes to visit, and then Caleb comes.

Caleb took a sip of his tea and glanced over his book and into recording booth. Molly was listening to Bryce as they spoke into the microphone. Yasha was sitting next to him, working on her needlepoint as Molly worked on the song. 

“You know.” Bryce said, pulling off their headphones, “I think that’s a wrap.” They said. 

“Ah, so soon? We just got started a few hours ago?” Caleb asked in confusion. 

“Easy song to sing.” Bryce explained. 

The door swung open and Marion Lavore, in her trademark ruby dress, waltzed in. Behind her was a young woman with bright blue hair cut in a bob that curled and bounced as it saw fit, thick pink glasses, and freckles. 

Molly was saying something in the booth, but Bryce had already pulled off their headset and was rising to embrace Marion. Caleb slipped over to the board, careful to put his tea far, far away from the electronics, and pulled on the headset. 

“Finally, is that Marion and Jester? I can’t see.” Molly asked 

“Ah, ja it is-” 

“Caleb darling push the button I can’t hear you.” 

Caleb found the red button and held it. 

“Ja, it is Marion.” 

“Good, unplug me.” Molly cackled, and slipped out of the mic’s headset to slid into place at the piano bench. He slid on his headset and Caleb pulled his out and flashed Molly a thumbs up. 

Molly launched right into the chorus of a song and started happily singing. 

“She's a Killer Queen, gunpowder, gelatin, dynamite with a laser beam, guaranteed to blow your mind, anytime.” Molly cooed into the microphone, his voice flooding the booth. Marion gasped with delight and turned to press the button, beaming with delight.

“Why Mollymauk you didn’t even come to give me a hug!” She pouted. Molly launched himself from the piano and tumbled out the booth, throwing his arms around Marion. 

“Oh, I missed you.” He said gently. 

“It’s good to see you back in the booth.” Marion said, hugging him. “And with your new lover, too.” She teased. Molly laughed and Caleb squirmed. 

This was the first time they had gone out in public together, and Marion wasn’t in the know about their fake dating. 

“He wrote it.” Molly beamed. He slipped from Marion and sat on the edge of the table, sliding his arms around Caleb and holding him close.

Marion Lavore, former 80’s pop known as Ruby thanks to her habit of wearing red clothing, owner of the record label, technically Caleb’s boss (whom he had never met)waltzed over to him. 

“It’s good to finally meet you. Bryce has been singing your praises.” She pulled Caleb into a hug and Molly gasped. Caleb squirmed his way out of the unwanted touch. 

“And just when were you going to say hello!?” Molly asked, holding out his arms. The young woman with the pink glasses launched herself at Molly, hugging him tight. 

“I missed you Molly!” She said, kissing his cheek. 

“I missed you too, Jester dear.” Molly hugged her close. “Caleb, this is the young woman I mentioned to you, Jester. She’s my costumer and makeup artist.” He said. 

“Ah, ja, hallo.” Caleb said, offering his hand to shake. 

“Oh it’s so good to meet you! I’ve heard all about you on the news! People won’t stop gossiping about you, you know!” Jester shook his hand and smiled at him. 

There was something sweet and innocent and disarming about the girl and Caleb felt his heart starting to melt a bit. There was sunshine in her smile and Caleb remembered that Molly considered her part of his -no, their- family. 

“I hope you have not heard too many stories.” He muttered, going red. 

“Oh, no, you’re like super shady and people don’t know anything about you! That’s why they’re gossiping.” She beamed. “So Molly, let me listen! Let me listen!” She bounced on the balls of her feet and Caleb found himself smiling softly. She looked to be in her mid twenties, but there still something child-like about her, perhaps in her abashed joy. 

“Oh alright. Use me why don’t you.” Molly gasped dramatically, letting his head drop onto Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb glanced to Molly who shot him a wink. Molly moved quickly, giving Caleb a gentle kiss on the cheek before dragging Jester by the wrist over to where Marion and Bryce were sharing a headset, listening. Caleb turned red and Jester giggled softly. 

“He’s a little shy.” Molly explained. 

“You know, why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone?” Jester asked him softly. 

“He wanted to keep it private.” Molly lied. “He’s a very private person.”

“Oh, okay. Well that’s a good thing then. Does he make you happy?” Jester asked with her big blue eyes. Molly melted a little bit at the wide-eyed innocence he saw in them. He loved Jester because no matter what, Jester never looked down on him and she was always ready to cause a little chaos. 

“He does.” Molly booped her nose and she giggled softly before taking the headset Bryce offered her. Molly drifted away and sat near Caleb. 

“How are you holding up, darling?” He asked softly. He fussed over Caleb’s hair softly, knowing that they had to put up a front with Marion.

Caleb felt his heart flip in his chest at Molly’s gentle grooming. The singer ran his nails over Caleb’s scalp and he melted, leaning into Molly’s hand. His eyes drifted shut as Molly massaged his scalp, scratching softly with his nails. The tension fled from his body at Molly’s touch and he found a tiny smile playing over his face. 

“I am a little hungry.” He admitted softly. He hadn’t eaten that morning; there was no food in the house and he didn’t get paid until Friday. His stomach rumbled loudly and Molly tutted. 

“Well that’s no good. I know Clay is making ribs for lunch. It’s his off day so he likes to make something labor intensive. How about you come back to my place for lunch?” Molly offered. Caleb opened his mouth to protest and his stomach answered for him in the form of another rumble. “Good. I’ll let him know you’re coming.” Molly dug out his phone and shot off a text. 

“Are you sure I won’t be a bother?” Caleb asked softly. Molly’s phone pinged and Molly showed him Clay’s reply; it was a selfie of the man sitting in a lawn chair by a smoker that was going, a beer in his cup holder, a joint in his mouth, sunglasses in the shape of pink flamingos that matched the pink flamingos on his shirt (bright tropical print, half opened, most likely stolen from Molly’s closet) shooting his phone a big thumbs up. 

“Clay likes feeding people. You’re a hardly a bother.” Molly cupped Caleb’s cheek, tilting his face up. 

“Molly?” Caleb asked softly, opening his eyes to see the singer glancing over his shoulder at Marion before turning his head and kissing Caleb softly. It was quick and soft and chaste, but it still felt like a shock to his system. He was well aware of the metal in Molly’s bottom lip and how his lipstick smelled like roses. Molly pulled away and laughed softly, reaching up to wipe the lipstick from Caleb’s mouth. 

Molly wiped the lipstick off of Caleb’s lips and glanced up into his eyes. Caleb’s blue eyes were wide and trained on Molly’s face. His expression, always had to read, was impossible right now. 

“Caleb? Everything alright?” Molly asked. 

“Ja, I just…the…I was not expecting to be kissed.” He admitted. 

“Well, I like kissing you. So I plan to kiss you as often as I can.” Molly knew he was telling the truth, that he was going to kiss Caleb as much as he could in public because he wanted to kiss Caleb. 

Caleb felt his mouth go dry at Molly’s words and his gaze flickered toward Molly’s pretty, pretty mouth. His lipstick (a pale pink, soft and shimmery), was slightly smeared and Caleb wanted to smear more of it around Molly’s face. 

“Just keep it suitable for all ages, Mollymauk.” Caleb said gently. 

“I already have one sex tape out, so why not a second?” Molly grumbled, rolling his eyes. Caleb glanced to the others, who were deep in conversation and Caleb could snatch snippets of conversation concerning dates and what other singers are putting out when. 

“If it makes a difference, I think it is abominable. You are a person, not a public commodity.” Caleb kept his voice low. He watched out of the corner of his gaze as an odd expression flitted over Molly’s face. It seemed as if Molly wanted to cry but refused to let himself. Molly smiled and nodded gently instead. 

“Thank you Caleb. That….that means a lot.” He muttered. “Fame and fortune is all good and well, but it came at the price of my humanity.” Molly’s voice was bitter and he laughed brokenly. 

“That is horrible and I cannot agree with that. You are a person, a living breathing man, and you deserve the same dignity as the rest of us.” Caleb explained. Molly reached up and cupped his cheek and kissed Caleb again. This time Caleb was prepared, and he kissed back. 

“Thank you, my dear.” Molly said. “Promise me you won’t watch it.”

“What?”

Molly quickly gripped both of Caleb’s hands in his own. “Please, don’t watch it.” 

“Ja, I won’t. I promise.” It’s not like he was planning on seeing it anyway. He glanced into Molly’s eyes and saw the urgency in them. “I promise, Mollymauk.” He spoke gently. 

They both started as Marion spoke. “I was thinking we could drop this within a week.” 

“A week?!” Molly asked. “I don’t have cover art prepared or a costume and I’m not camera ready.” He protested. 

“Let me handle those things.” Bryce said. “I’ll get you on Kimmel or Corden, let you get back into the swing of things with a softball.” 

“Why so soon?” Caleb asked. “That is the only track ready.” He had three more that he and Molly were finishing up. 

“Summer break is coming. We want to cash in on that.” Marion said with a wave. “And besides, the Gentleman,” She rolled her eyes, showing what she thought of him. “Is dropping a single soon and I want to be first.” 

Molly sighed, glancing to Caleb. “What do you think, darling?” 

“Molly, were you two making out back here?” Jester asked, peeking over her sketchbook. 

“Possibly.” Molly laughed and Jester giggled, her nose wrinkling with joy. Caleb blushed and looked everywhere but at Jester which caused the young woman to clap her hands with delight. 

“You were!” She cackled. 

“Oh hush.” Molly said. “Clay’s making ribs for lunch, you want to come over?” 

“Oh, yes please!” Jester said.

The door to the booth opened and there was a tall, broad man with an undercut, a scar on his face, and a guitar in his hand. 

“Ah, sorry.” He said. “I didn’ mean to interrupt.” His voice was deep and thick with a southern drawl and Caleb got the feeling that the rodeo belt buckle wasn’t for show. His skin was deeply tanned and he had salt and pepper hair in his undercut. 

“Fjord!” Jester launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. “Have you met Molly?” She asked. 

“I’ve haven’t but I’ve heard of you.” Fjord said as Jester slipped from his arms to stand by Caleb. “Good to meet you.” He said, holding a hand for Molly to shake. 

Molly gave Fjord a cold glance up and down before sashaying over to him. 

“Good to meet you, Fjord.” Molly said, pulling Fjord into a hug. Yasha blinked in surprise and locked eyes with Jester for a moment. Neither of them had been expecting him to react so warmly to the country singer. “Just let me gather my family and we can head out.” 

“We’re having barbecue for lunch!” Jester beamed. She turned to Caleb and grinned like a cat that got the cream. “You have lipstick on your mouth, Caleb.” She teased. He turned red and wiped as his mouth before Yasha passed him her pocket square. 

“Ah, danke.” He muttered, wiping Molly’s lipstick off. Fjord glanced over to Jester and back to Molly. Molly let Fjord go and picked up his purse before wrapping his arm around Caleb’s hips. 

“You know,” Fjord suggested. “I’ve been in LA for a while, an’ there’s a place in Panorama City, not far off the freeway. Dr. Hogly Wogly's. Best I’ve found outside o’ Texas so far.” 

“I’ll remember that.” Molly said, smiling. “Thank you for the tip. We best be getting out of your booth.” He held out his hand and Jester took it. 

“I’ll be back later, okay?” She told Marion and they followed Yasha out of the booth and to the elevators. 

“That was kind of you Molly.” Yasha said as she pushed the button. 

“Oh?” 

“You weren’t rude and didn’t you brush him off. I’m proud of you.” 

“Ah well. I’m supposed to be starting over, right? I guess I have to give people a chance. And to his credit he didn’t react badly when he saw me.” Molly said, ushering Jester and Caleb into the elevator. 

“Fjord is actually very very nice.” Jester said as the doors shut. “He’s never treated me like I’m not supposed to be here, or that I’m just a costumer, you know? He’s always been super respectful. He even holds doors open for me!” 

Caleb caught something in the way she spoke and in her smile as he leaned into Molly’s body. It was natural to find warmth and strength in the form of Mollymauk Tealeaf. 

“You are sweet on him, ja?” Caleb asked softly. Jester turned bright red and nodded. 

“A little bit, yes. But it’s really, really hard not to have a crush on someone when they call you ‘little lady’ and hold open doors and apologize for swearing when you’re around.” Jester explained. “I’m sure it’s the same way with Caleb, you said he’s shy.” 

“Ah, about that.” Caleb said. 

“We’re not really dating. We’re faking dating. For the press. I made a bit of a mistake, kissing him on the beach last week. So, in order to cover my flub, we made a plan.” 

Molly told her everything as they descended to the lobby. 

“Molly….” Jester beamed. Her smile spoke of chaos and wild plans and Caleb knew that Nott got a similar look once in a while had sense an oncoming storm. 

“Yes, Jester?” Molly asked, a similar smile growing on his face. 

“How long are you planning to do this?” 

“Until New Years.” 

Jester beamed with delight and grabbed Molly’s hands in hers. 

“Please let me make your Halloween costumes! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!” She begged as the doors open. 

“Will it be a couple’s costume?” Molly gasped with joy. Jester nodded and Molly cackled with delight, pulling Jester into a hug and sweeping out of the elevator. “Oh I love you so much!” He kissed her cheek and Jester hugged him back, bouncing on her toes. She was on the bigger side, so her thighs jiggled with her joy as well. 

“Oh I have so many ideas, this is going to be wonderful!” Jester jumped for joy as Yasha threw open the doors. 

Lunch was happy and joyful and tasty and somehow Caleb ended up laden with leftovers that he gratefully stuck in his fridge. Clay had been insistent on he and Jester taking home leftovers to share with their family and he knew that Nott would love the meat. She wasn’t home yet; she wouldn’t be home yet for a while, so Caleb cracked open his laptop as he settled onto his futon. He settled in and started browsing through his normal websites when a link caught his eye. 

It was, apparently, a real copy of Molly’s sex tape. It was a link posted by someone who had claimed to have a real copy. He rolled his eyes. People would do anything for a bit fame. 

Caleb ignored it, and continued on. The smell of roses was coming from the lipstick still in his beard and he could smell Molly’s European cigarettes on his shirt still. His mouth still felt the ghost of Molly’s lips and Caleb found himself running his tongue over his bottom lip as he remembered. His cock twitched in his pants and he sighed softly. 

He kept trying to browse Amazon for a new book but he kept thinking about Molly and Molly’s mouth. The singer was always fond of jokes about how talented his mouth was and Caleb found himself daydreaming about kissing Molly in private. 

He wondered if the sex tape had kissing in it. 

Most likely not, simply because Vax had been holding the camera the whole time. He had seen some safe for work clips on TMZ and he knew that Molly was pretty on his knees. 

He huffed under his breath, trying to ignore the growing need in his lower belly. His cock started to swell and Caleb called it a lost cause and opened up that the thread from earlier. His pointer hovered over the link and his cock twitched and was quickly at half-mast before he gave in and clicked it. 

It loaded up in a moment; Nott had manged to somehow steal their neighbor’s really good internet so it was up and playing before Caleb had the chance to get his cock out. 

There was Molly, on his knees, smiling at the camera. His face was made up with mascara and eyeshadow and lipstick; the last of which was smeared around his face a bit. His hands were above his head and he was showing off his clothing; a peacock pattern waist cincher, a garter belt and panties and stockings, all in lace and all in peacock purple, with a metal collar around his neck. There were two delicate chains coming from the collar to clip the barbells in his nipples and Caleb’s cock throbbed in his hand when he saw that. His breath came short as he took in the look. 

Molly was stunning and he grinned on the screen as Caleb watched. He clicked and made it full screen as Molly laughed. There was something off about this Molly though; his smile didn’t reach his eyes and his laugh wasn’t as sharp. 

“See something you like?” Molly asked. 

“Oh you know I do Molls. On your knees for me, pet.” Came the clipped English voice of the actor from the vampire show. Caleb really hoped he didn’t talk in bed. He wanted to see Molly, not hear Vax’ildan. 

Molly sank to his hands and knees and crawled over to Vax. The camera followed and not five seconds later both Caleb and Vax were gasping as Molly took Vax’s cock to the root in a single motion. Caleb’s hips were arching off the couch as he stared. 

Molly had joked about being pretty on his knees with a cock on his mouth but oh, he was right. Molly was made for this; the way his pretty mouth wrapped around Caleb’s cock and way his eyes peeked out from below the lashes that were dusted with glitter, the way his tongue worked as he bobbed up and down the shaft. 

Caleb’s hips were rutting into his cock as he lost himself to the fantasy. He didn’t hear Vax anymore; he was gasping and panting as he fucked his fist. Molly was taking Vax’s (sizable) length without an issue. Caleb was girthier than the actor, and he wondered if Molly would struggle with that. 

On the screen Molly pulled back and gasped for air as tears ran down his cheeks, smearing his makeup. It was a good look on him. Molly took a few breaths before diving down again. Vax’s hand appeared on screen, holding a remote. Caleb frowned and watched as he pushed the button. The reaction from Molly was immediate. 

He pulled off Vax and whined, hips writhing. He turned his face up to the camera and moaned and Caleb was cumming and spilling hot over his hand. Pleasure ripped through his body as he moaned, shaking apart at the sight of Molly sucking his ex-boyfriend’s dick. 

Regret set it at once and he slammed his laptop shut. He scrambled from the couch and made it to the toilet just in time to vomit up all of Clay’s excellent cooking. 

Regret, disgust and the ever-present shame and guilt burned hot in his chest as he curled in on himself, starting to cry. He had gone and done what he said he wouldn’t do. He had gone and watched the tape that was leaked to hurt Molly, and not only that, he had masturbated to it and had peaked. He had gone and hurt Molly when Molly had been nothing but kind to him. What kind of filthy, disgusting person did that? What kind of horrid monster treated such a kind person with cruelty? Caleb Widogast was, apparently. 

Caleb curled into a ball on the bathroom floor and cried until Frumpkin walked on his ribs, mewing and headbutting him. Caleb sniffed and wrapped his clean hand around the cat, who started to lick his cheeks. 

_“Ah, look at me. I’m such a fucking mess. Thank you for still be here.”_ He kissed his cat’s forehead before calming himself down and taking the time to clean himself up before Nott got home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Merry Christmas. Sorry I've been a shit lately. I'm on the nice store bought neurotransmitters, so expect more of this and yes, Betrothed and YES, Trauma Cafe! I think I'm getting there. I've got a plan to weave in Caduceus (yeah, that's why I stopped working on it), and a way to bring in Pike! I'm getting there guys! 
> 
> Merry Christmas. I love you all. Remember, come talk to me at any time guys, okay? I love hearing from you and wanting to know if you guys are okay. My tumblr is matt-the-blind-cinnamon-roll and my twitter is mebeshe4815. I want you guys to contact me, okay? Okay. 
> 
> I love you all. Be safe.

**Author's Note:**

> So um, I'm back on my bullshit again. Please, bear with me as I start to get back to making art. 
> 
> As always, find me on tumblr at Matt-the-blind-cinnamon-roll and on twitter at Mebeshe4815. Kudos and comments feed the plot bunnies.


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